Seeing With Open Eyes
by Houkanno Yuuhou
Summary: Rated for questionable material: different forms of abuse. Helga Warner is far off from being the bully she once was, but now is the time when she needs it most. And when Arnold comes into the picture, things slowly...turn...worse? Comments welcome.
1. Author's Note

This Author's Note wasn't originally a part of the story, but I've been working on a new chapter, and I've been making some corrections, and well…I've received some reviews and emails about the subject matter of this fic. I just wanted to offer an explanation for you all.  
  
You see, this was my first Hey Arnold story, and I originally wanted to write a romance or a comedy, but the more I thought, the more this dark story came out of me. I guess it's because Helga's childhood is a lot like mine was, and well…I also took Psychology in school, and for some reason, I could see something like this happen to Helga, the bully. The more I thought about that aspect, the more I wanted to do a story that delves into Helga's psyche. Not, mind you, because there aren't enough of them already out there, but because I wanted to offer my own view of what Helga could become in the future. It's not a "this will happen in the future because I SAY it will" story or a "please give me pity and reviews!!1" story. It's just a story that I hope will open your minds to a possibility. If you don't like it enough to review, or if you just have nothing to say, then that's okay. I hope it still had an effect on you somehow. If you wish to leave a comment, then be assured that while it won't keep me living (heh), it will make me happy. It's all up to you, my reader.  
  
Yes, this story deals with abusive issues. Mental and physical. Just looking at Helga's fragile (and I do mean fragile) personality makes me realize what kind of person she could become if someone stronger than her broke her spirit (for all the wrong reasons though). Truthfully, it should be Arnold that breaks her spirit; not because he can or because she loves him…but because he has the kindness and the patience to help her break through her shell. But this story is something that shows what happens when you take a schoolyard bully whose heart is already aching from much hurt and unrequited love, and you let an aggressive jackass (and that's a nice word for him) break through her shell. The bully might be too afraid to retaliate and would just…give up and give in. Wouldn't you, if you thought the whole world hated and feared you (boy, oh boy, I read WAY too much X-Men)?  
  
Anyway, I hope this explanation answers your "why did you even write this?" questions (because I know that friends from Kim's board come on here, and since they know me, they will read this and wonder what the hell is wrong with me). In no way do I compare to Craig B's genius, but I'd like to try, in my own way.  
  
So yeah, this story is rated for what happens herein. Kids probably shouldn't read this, but I know for a fact that some kids are more mature than their counterparts (I was), so all I can say is that if you do read this, then bare my note in mind, and do have some caution.  
  
Oh! And uh, yes, I do have happier stories in the works. ::blush:: 


	2. End of the Her World

Disclaimer: Craig Bartlett is the genius behind "Hey Arnold," not I, alas. Um, Craig, if I gave you my entire action figure collection, would you let me borrow them for a little while? Well...crap. Anyway, I also do not own "End of the World." It was written by someone else a long, long time ago, and Skeeter Davis sang it a long time ago. And yes, the scene at the end is just like the scene of my favorite movie and book, "Girl, Interrupted." Don't be too mad that I borrowed it, okay, Ms. Kaysen?  
  
  
  
"Seeing With Opens Eyes"  
  
by Houkanno Yuuhou (for those of you at Kim's forum, I'm HelgasLostTwin)  
  
  
  
The colorful Fall leaves were beginning to turn brown and crispy. She watched one fly off the big tree in the yard and continued watching as the wind carried the fragile thing over to her window sill. It was already starting to decay.  
  
"Poor little leaf, you look like how I feel." She jumped in her seat a little. How long had it been since she last heard her voice? It was crackly, tiny, and pathetic. How awful. Even her voice betrayed her. What else could happen?  
  
Well, she was also just talking to herself. Oh, the insanity!  
  
She looked at the little leaf again. Yes, her soul had already withered away, and after a quick glance at her body, she realized it looked like it was decaying, too. "Well," she laughed bitterly, "that's what happens when you don't care about yourself."  
  
A bluebird on a branch outside chirped merrily. The sun was bright and warm. Not one damn cloud in the sky. All that, and kids from the neighborhood were gathering equipment in order to play baseball.  
  
Was everything in the world against her???  
  
Suddenly, the phone rang, startling her. Who could be calling their house? She shook her head and let the answering machine pick it up. Her chipper voice filled the room. "Hello! You've reached the home of Todd and Helga Warner. We're not home at the present time, so please leave your name, your number, and a brief message, and we promise to get back with you as soon as possible!" The machine beeped, and Helga tried to keep from throwing up her lunch.  
  
"Helga, hi! It's Mom. I just wanted to know how everything is and to tell you that Olga is dropping by for a visit."  
  
She jumped up and grabbed the phone. "Mom, I'm here! I'm sorry. I was cleaning."  
  
Her mother laughed. "Oh, Helga, you don't have to apologize! I just thought you'd like to know that Olga is coming for a visit, and she said she might stop by your place--"  
  
"No! I...I mean, Mom, just let me come over there, okay? The house is kind of messy because of painting the nursery." She looked at the fresh bruises on her arms and legs. This was not what she needed, not right now.  
  
Her mother was quiet for a long while and then sighed. "Are you okay? You sound sick. Todd's not making you paint the nursery by yourself, is he?"  
  
Why would you care, was the first thought to her mind. Then she bit her lower lip and quickly replied, "No, no, he isn't. I just wanted to get a lot done today, that's all." Oh well, a small lie never hurt anyone. Truthfully, he wanted her to get it done by herself. Today.  
  
"Well, then what time are you coming over? Your father is picking her up from the airport in an hour and a half. We thought we'd all go out to eat at eight o'clock. Todd can come, too," her mother said anxiously, and Helga swore she heard the sound of the blender being pulled out of a cabinet. "That is, if he's not working late again."  
  
"He probably is, and even then, he'll still be too tired to go." Another lie. Too drunk, yeah, that was it. Too drunk. "Look, I'll try to come over around six. I can't make any promises though. Todd might want to...do something together."  
  
"Okay, Helga." Before she could even say good-bye, her mother hung up. Probably sick of her excuses. Who wouldn't be?  
  
She returned to her seat by the window. Everything was done except for the painting, and she couldn't help if her stomach hurt, could she? He would understand, wouldn't he?  
  
Sighing, she looked at the kids playing outside. She noticed how the sun made everything it touched glow like gold. Everyone was happy. Why couldn't she go outside and enjoy the happiness, too?  
  
Well, as much as she hated to see her parents fuss over Olga, she couldn't stand sitting in the horrible, drafty house anymore. She didn't want to wait on Todd hand and foot again. This morning was the last time he hit her. The absolute last time, she promised herself.  
  
Wasn't she always breaking promises she couldn't keep?  
  
No, no this time. She was pregnant now. She had a baby now, one that's half his. He wouldn't hurt his future son, would he? Would he??  
  
She rubbed the tiny bulge on her body and sighed. Maybe she would mention it to Todd. Maybe he would realize his terrible mistake and apologize to her. Maybe he would tell her he was sorry for everything, and this was a new beginning.  
  
Or then again, maybe not.  
  
After a while, she snapped out of her trance and saw that the sun was going down, and the children had gone inside for the day. How long had she sat there daydreaming?  
  
The old grandfather clock in the hall chimed loudly, announcing that it was the half hour. She read the time. It was 6:30, a little past the time that she had told her mother she would be there. He was probably drinking again. Would she have to go find him and carry him home again?? Not again.  
  
Maybe he would be nice enough to let her go to her parents' this time?  
  
Soon enough, she heard the lock on the front door turning, and then heard the door slam. Well, that answered her question about how he was feeling.  
  
He threw his coat and briefcase at her. "Where's dinner? I don't smell anything cooking." She bent to pick them up, placing the coat on the coatrack and the briefcase on the floor under the rack. Just like he always wanted it. "Damnit, Helga, I asked where dinner is!"  
  
She looked at the floor, trying to mask her guilt from him. He would lecture her again about how he abhorred laziness. Especially hers. "I...I was so busy painting the nursery...and I had to sit down...uh, I had pains in my stomach."  
  
"Right," he replied curtly and looked around, inspecting everything. He touched the banister and grunted. "This sure as hell doesn't feel dusted and polished. Haven't I told you time and time again about cleanliness? Do I have to tell you how lazy you're being again?"  
  
She felt a hot tear trail down her cheek and watched it hit the floor. Shivering, she whispered, "No, Todd. I'm sorry. I'll fix something right away." She began to walk toward the kitchen, but he grabbed her wrist, twisting it until she almost screamed in pain. "No...please, Todd. Not again...don't hurt me again." She felt like curling up under a rock to hide. If only she could hide from him.  
  
"Just forget it," he spat at her. "Order something for delivery. I don't want to wait on you." But you'll have to wait on them, she wanted to yell but bit her tongue. He would never let her leave tonight if she talked back. He drummed his fingers along the banister impatiently. "Well?"  
  
"Yes, Todd." Oh, how much like a good little slave she sounded! Again, she was so pathetic. Right away, Todd, her mind mocked her. She hesitated for a moment, trying to collect her courage to ask him if she could see her sister. It was worth a shot. "Todd?"  
  
"Hm?" he muttered without even looking up from his work at his desk.  
  
"Would you...well, that is...Mom said my sister, Olga, is dropping in, and we were invited out to dinner."  
  
He laughed sarcastically. "Now why would I want to leave the sanctity of my home in order to see your psychotic family?"  
  
She began to shiver uncontrollablely, no matter how much she willed herself to stay still, to be strong. "Yes, Todd. I understand." She peered up at him and dared herself to look him in the eyes. "Can I go? I never get to see anyone, and they're all starting to...." Her voice trailed off. How could she stand up for herself if she couldn't finish a damn sentence?  
  
He sneered. "They're all starting to what, Helga?"  
  
She looked away again, even though she knew she had just given him enormous control over her in that single move. "They're starting to wonder what's going on."  
  
He laughed and went back to his paperwork. "Right, Helga. I don't believe for one minute that your parents actually give a damn about you. Don't be so silly. No one cares for you. No one but me."  
  
"Yes, Todd."  
  
He sighed, as if she was some sort of permanent bother to him. "Don't I take care of you? Don't I feed you? Clothe you? Don't I give you enough love? And what do you give me in return?" He looked at her then, the anger in his eyes very apparent. "You are an ungrateful bitch, that's what you are." He began to unbuckle his belt.  
  
She began to cower into the corner of the parlor and shielded her eyes. "Oh, Todd! Not that! God, not that!"  
  
He smiled and pulled the belt from his pants in one fluid motion. "Maybe it's time to teach you another lesson. Isn't that right, Helga?"  
  
"No...no," she whimpered.  
  
A little bit more harshly, he yell, "Isn't that right, Helga??"  
  
She knew what was coming, but part of her didn't care. That small forgotten part of her ordered her to stand up and pound the shit out of him until his blood was all over his beautiful white carpet that she had to painstakingly take precise care of every damn day of her married life. Couldn't be one speck of dirt on his precious carpet. Nevermind how many bruises were painted all over her body. His carpet was more important. Who cared about her? Some tiny bit of strength gave her a burst of adrenaline, made her blood boil. "No."  
  
He growled and whipped the belt at her face. He didn't care if anyone saw. Hell, she didn't get out enough for people to see. He made sure of that.  
  
The belt smacked her cheek with such force that she actually couldn't stop herself from screaming out in pain. "Isn't that right, Helga?!"  
  
She touched the now sore, swelling spot on her face. Great, now even her eye would be swollen shut in the morning. "No, it's not right. We're having a baby. Don't you care? You can't keep hurting me!"  
  
"You are having the baby, not us." He looked down on her and shook his head in disappointment. "I gave that baby to you, you ungrateful wench. I can take it away, too, if you get out of line. I will not tolerate spitefulness and losing attitudes in my house." Then he smiled, bent down beside her, and cooed at her, smoothing her hair like she was a little baby. "You got out of line and need to learn your lesson. It's for your own good, Helga. Don't you understand how much I love you? No one else loves you, Helga. You need me. No one loves a hateful girl or a spiteful woman."  
  
She stared at him, horror filling her body. No one loves a hateful girl or spiteful woman. She was sure that she had never been a spiteful woman, or at least that had ended when she met him. But how long had it been since she truly was a hateful girl?  
  
There it was again, that tiny part of her that hated him and called out for her to wake up and beat him up. Had she ever had that much hatred in her heart?  
  
He began to place little sickening kisses on her face and bruises, ignoring the fact that he was just causing her more physical pain with each touch. "Oh, Helga, you are the most fragile thing in the world. I know you realize how much you need me, need me to protect you from everything evil out there. It's been so long now that you don't remember what it's like out there. This is for your own good, love. You understand that, don't you? You don't really want to go out there alone, do you?"  
  
Right, you fruit loop, criminey, Helga girl, wake up, her mind shouted at her.  
  
She sniffed and nodded, ignoring that part once again, shoving it deep inside. Maybe he was right. No one had ever really loved her. Her father despised her. Her mother didn't care enough about anyone to sober up. Well, maybe she cared for Olga, and Olga really only cared about her own accomplishments and being pampered. She had never had many friends, and definitely had none now. Who cared about her, except Todd? Only he took care of her. Only he cared enough to shelter her from the harsh environment.  
  
You don't need him, stupid, you can depend on yourself, her mind whispered. Don't you remember how?  
  
She shook it off. He was right. She hadn't faced the world alone in a long while. How could she depend on herself if everyone and everything else had always let her down? No, it was much better inside. She had only been kidding herself earlier when she had gotten that silly urge to go outside.  
  
Maybe it was better not to be anywhere at all. She had always secretly believed that no one loved her for herself, for anything. Her adult life had ended up proving that hypothesis true, sadly. Maybe everyone would be better off if she wasn't simply...around?  
  
Yeah, right, idiot, now that's the way out, her mind scolded.  
  
Yes, it was the way out. Out of this pathetic, co-dependent marriage. Out of this uncaring world. Out of this life that just wasn't meant to be. Really.  
  
She nodded again and sighed. "Yes, Todd. I understand. Only you love me. I'm not fit for you, for anyone. I don't deserve you. I'm sorry."  
  
He grinned, and suddenly, she felt her heart flutter, and then cursed herself for being suckered yet again. That's what she had fallen in love with in the first place. "I love when you apologize. Stand up." She did as she was told. He tweaked a nipple, and she bit her lower lip until she felt it bleed. It was like she was nothing more than a slab of meat. Then he slapped her butt, making her wince. "Be a good girl now, and go upstairs and wait for me. Maybe I'll be kind to you and let you stay untied."  
  
Ugh. "Yes, Todd."  
  
She rushed up the stairs and locked the door to their room. It wouldn't matter really, since he had a key, but the thought of it being locked eased her mind somewhat, and it gave her enough time to relax...and to think about things.  
  
She walked to the window and opened it up, taking in a big breath of fresh air. As she exhaled, she noticed the strong smell of grills cooking and leaves burning. She saw the picnic nightlights bobbing up and down in the breeze and heard the laughter and serious conversation houses away. She yearned to be a part of all that, but it was never really meant for her, was it? She was just a poor, fragile slip of a woman that knew nothing except what she was told.  
  
Long ago, though, she had been a bully. Not as terrible as Todd, but a force not easily ignored, she supposed. She had been the bully because she was afraid to let anyone see what was beyond all that. No one ever wanted to see the hurt inside her.  
  
Well, maybe her friend, Phoebe, had tried, but ultimately in the end, she had given up, having come to the conclusion that Helga was beyond help or refused to help herself.  
  
There was a very pretentious girl, she remembered. A rich girl that only cared for fashion and money. She had never taken an interest in Helga. Her group of followers hadn't either, all dismissing her as some wacky tomboy who would never change.  
  
There had been a group of boys, too, but all they had cared about was using her to their advantage. When she had finally balked one day, they left her alone. Forever. They only knew the bully who was as rough as one of the guys, not the romantic poet.  
  
She pulled out an old record player she had gotten at a yard sale long ago as a girl and thumbed through the collection of Forty-fives. A record caught her eye, and she pulled it from the paper covering and placed it on the turntable. After she sat the needle on it, the beautiful, sad love ballad poured out of the speakers.  
  
"Why does the sun go on shining?  
  
Why does the sea rush to shore?  
  
Don't they know it's the end of the world,  
  
'Cause you don't love me any more.  
  
Why do the birds go on singing?  
  
Why do the stars glow above?  
  
Don't they know it's the end of the world?  
  
It ended when I lost your love...."  
  
She sniffed back tears and looked out the window again. There had been a boy once. Arnold. That was his name. He had believed in her, knowing she had a different side to all the taunting and teasing. But eventually, some girl had gotten his attention, and he, too, had given up. Hadn't he loved her? Ever?  
  
Here she was, kidding herself again. He had never loved her, only wanted to help her as he helped everyone. Why had she fooled herself into thinking she was special to him in the first place?  
  
Because of that blasted first day in preschool. He had said he liked her bow, and like a simpleton, she had fallen in love, only to never have it returned. What a foolish, foolish thing to do. She was so ignorant. No wonder no one loved her. But even now, her heart was wrenching at the thought of Arnold never loving her, although it had been several years now. What was it about that boy that set her whole body on fire with passion? Anyone could have told her that they liked her silly old bow! Would she have wasted years on them, too, in some stupid hope that they would return her love? Stupid! So stupid!  
  
Yes, definitely better to leave it all. She didn't want to be alone, but she didn't want to be left with only Todd to love her. She grabbed a sheet from the bathroom closet and began to wrap it around the ceiling fan. Todd had always insisted on fans, never central air because it was too expensive. Screw the fact that she had almost died of dehydration once because of the heat.  
  
Damn it, she was always doing for him! No more! No fucking more!  
  
"I wake up in the morning and I wonder  
  
Why everything's the same as it was.  
  
I can't understand, no, I can't understand  
  
How life goes on the way it does...."  
  
If only she could apologize for being such a horrid girl once, but that was past her now. She didn't have enough time. She had never had enough time for anything in her life, and as a result, it had moved too quickly, forgetting her in the process.  
  
She pulled the makeshift noose around her neck and tightened it. As she moved toward the end of the bed, she heard the door unlock and open.  
  
He stood there, hands on hips, gawking at her in disgust. "For Christ's sake, Helga. You're such a stupid bitch, really. Are you really going to jump?" She stood still, staring at him in return, suddenly afraid to carry out her wish. "I could help you out, push you off the bed," he taunted. "More than you deserve though, for this act of defiance." She shook her head, trying to block his voice in any way she could. She couldn't stand the venom in that low, sexy voice. Such hatred for her, just her. He shrugged and walked toward the hall again. "Okay, Helga. You got the attention you wanted. I'll call the police so they can rescue you, but they won't believe a word you say. Don't forget that. You'd better hope for your sake that you gain the intelligence to walk forward before they get here, so they can just clean up after you. Otherwise," he said lowly, "I'll have to clean you up." He walked out to find the phone.  
  
She shivered. Maybe this was such a stupid idea, after all. Knowing her luck, she'd end up living anyway. but...damn it, if she could just get rid of that but! Another part of her, even smaller than the other kept reminding her that Arnold could one day come to his senses and declare his love for her, and then where would she be? Six feet under, that's where, and he would cry for his lost love, and it would be all...her...fault.  
  
Damn it. Nothing was ever easy.  
  
She stood there, chewing on a fingernail nervously. For as long as she was taking, she guessed she really didn't want to die after all. Maybe Arnold would come for her one day, like in a romance novel.  
  
And maybe pigs would fly one day, too. He was married by now, had to be. He'd forgotten all about his old tormentor, because that's all she was to him...a pest.  
  
She sighed, wondering how much time was passing. Pulling inwards, she listened carefully, hearing the sound of a distant owl screeching, the sound of the phone ringing downstairs and Todd talking to her mother, probably, and finally, the sound of a door slamming and footsteps up the stairs.  
  
"She's in this room, officer. I tried to stop her, but she just shut me out." Todd's voice and pretend-crying.  
  
"...her name again?" She could barely make out the second voice.  
  
She stepped closer to the edge, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. The record player was skipping, she noticed and wanted to step down and fix it. Silly, really, considering she sort of forgot the sheet around her neck.  
  
She stepped off the bed, innocently enough, and was surprised when she began choking. Grabbing at her neck, gasping for air, she tried to call out, but couldn't...maybe didn't want to. After all, she had wanted this.  
  
The tears finally fell from her face to the floor, and she stopped her struggle, accepting it, embracing it.  
  
If she could only be the fighter she had once been. What had happened to that girl? How had Todd changed her when no one else could? Why was she so afraid of him? Helga G. Pataki was afraid of nothing and no one!  
  
But Helga Warner was.  
  
She began to black out, thankfully.  
  
"Why does my heart go on beating?  
  
Why do these eyes of mine cry?  
  
Don't they know it's the end of the world?  
  
It ended when you said goodbye.  
  
Why does my heart go on beating?  
  
Why do these eyes of mine cry?  
  
Don't they know it's the end of the world?  
  
It ended when you said goodbye...."  
  
The door opened again, and she heard people rush in as she faded in and out. She heard the record player turn off.  
  
"Cut her down! Get her down from there!"  
  
"Any idea why she did this?"  
  
"She's pregnant. She's been anxious about her weight gain, and she won't eat." Todd's voice again. She wanted to scream! He was lying, couldn't they tell? But her body remained still, her having lost control moments ago. If only she hadn't been so stupid!  
  
"What did you say her name was again?" The man's deep voice was familiar. Where had she heard it before?  
  
"Helga."  
  
"Okay...," the familiar voice began and then paused suddenly. "Helga? Hey! I know this woman! Helga Pataki?!" the voice shouted. It reminded her of an annoying black kid she once knew. What was his name again? Gerry? Gary? Geraldo? Oh, who even cared?  
  
She felt the noose pulled from her neck, and she was in someone's strong arms. Peacefully, thankfully, she finally slipped into desired oblivion. 


	3. They Don't Replace the Life You Waste

Disclaimer: I would dance a happy, happy jig if Craig Bartlett would say, "Boo" to me, but alas, 'tis not so. Yet. So that means that I don't own "Hey Arnold" or Snee-oosh or Nickelodeon or Viacom or the universe.

"Seeing With Open Eyes"

Chapter Two: "They Can't Replace the Life You Waste" by Houkanno Yuuhou

She awoke to very bright, very harsh florescent lights, and snapped her eyes shut again with a hiss of displeasure. Rubbing the crust from her eyes, she vaguely remembered where she was. She remembered Todd, the record skipping, the swarm of people rushing around her to collect the pieces, and the guy that was so familiar.

He said something about a Phoebe somebody. Something about contacting her for a solution.

Oh dear God. No!

She opened her eyes again and glanced around the small, white room, taking everything in slowly. Yes, her mind did not falter. She was in a mental hospital. "Loony bin" for the unpolitically correct, of course.

"Shit," she said aloud. Phoebe? The name rolled around and around in her mind. Didn't she used to know someone named Phoebe?

No way could it be the same Phoebe. Seriously, how many other women out there could have the same name? Tons, that was what! Just a coincidence, really!

Her heart was pounding. It was just a coincidence, right? She looked down at the small metal bed she had slept in the previous night. Just a vinyl bed and a ratty old blanket. No pillow, not even a sheet. She sighed.

So this was it? Todd had just decided to shove her in an institution so he wouldn't have to see her ugly, bruised face anymore? She had to call someone...her mother, her sister...hell, the Pope would do. She just had to get out of there! She hated mental hospitals...ever since the last time.

She heard a metal "clink", like the sound a door makes when the locks are opening. Sure enough, the door was opening, and a petite, Asian-looking woman slid through the crack. The woman was smiling.

Helga looked at the floor, doing something -- anything! -- so she wouldn't have to look at the woman in front of her.

"Helga?" The woman came closer, within touching distance, and then hugged her. "It is you."

Shivering nervously from the unusual contact, Helga grimaced and withdrew from the embrace. "Do I know you?" She looked up in time to see the woman frown in...anger? No, not anger...hurt. Definitely an emotion that Helga was not used to seeing, only feeling.

The woman sighed. "It's me, Helga. Phoebe." She searched Helga's eyes for recognition, causing Helga to drop her gaze to the floor in shame. Part of her knew, but it was such old, fleeting thought...well, she wasn't sure.

"I don't know." Helga sighed and bit her lip in frustration. "Maybe. I can't remember. I can't really even remember yesterday." That's a lie, her mind told her. A downright lie. She shrugged.

Phoebe nodded and smiled, but it was such a tiny smile. A smile of confusion and sadness, Helga noted. "Well, Helga, I suppose it shouldn't surprise me. From what Gerald reported, last night must have been...uh...sudden for you, yes?"

Helga shook her head. "No, I knew what I was doing."

The frown came back. "What were you doing, Helga?"

Helga sighed again. "I was escaping."

There was another time, she remembered, that she had tried to escape, but in a different way. She had been only sixteen years-old. Sweet sixteen.

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She hadn't eaten for a while, she was sure. Days...maybe weeks even. Had to be by now.

Steering clear of the cafeteria with all its enticing aromas, she opted for the gym. Probably a stupid mistake, yes, because she hadn't eaten, and her mind was a spinning mess, but how was she to know that Gerald and Arnold would be playing basketball?

Well, doi! They only played every day before they left to eat!

She sighed and sat down on a row of bleachers where she was certain she couldn't be spotted.

Another big mistake. Phoebe plopped down beside her. "Hey, Phoebe."

A crack of gum. "Where have you been lately, Helga? We never see you in the cafeteria anymore."

"Working on extra credit."

Another crack of gum. "Bullshit."

Helga was taken back. Had Phoebe just said what she thought she had heard? "What?"

"You're lying. You don't need extra credit."

Helga groaned and looked down. "Look, Phoebe, I've been busy, okay? Just leave me alone."

"No, I won't. Everyone's worried about you. We haven't seen you eat lunch in two weeks."

Had it been that long? "Don't worry. I eat at home. I hate the food here."

Phoebe sighed and shrugged, having given up. "If you say so. At least I tried."

Helga looked up and glared at Phoebe, who in return, cracked her gum again. "What do you mean?"

Phoebe stood up and looked at the gym floor. Out of curiosity, Helga looked in the same direction and gasped. Gerald was on his way up...with Arnold in tow.

Helga stood up, too, and tried to get past Phoebe, but as she moved down a row, she felt a tug at her wrist, and she winced. Boy, did that hurt! Was Phoebe working out? It felt like a bone had snapped! "Phoebe--"

"Don't even say it," Phoebe said in a low growl. "Sit down. We all need to talk to you."

Helga nodded and sat back down. When she looked up again, she saw three concerned faces looking down on her. "What?"

All three grinned, making Helga wary of what they were going to do. Phoebe grabbed her wrist again, though lightly that time, and pulled her to her feet. "Come on. We're getting lunch, my treat." Helga could almost scream! How could they do this to her? Why did they even care?? Weeks had passed, and no one had even said, "Boo," to her, meaning they didn't care whether she went through with her plan or not. Just when she felt that closure was near...damn, there they were, waiting to spoil her escape.

She snatched her hand back from Phoebe, sat down again, and sneered at the three. "I don't want lunch. I'm not hungry. I'm going to stay here, and you will all leave me the hell alone."

Suddenly, Arnold was towering over her. "We know what you're up to, Helga, and we won't let you destroy yourself this way."

"So?"

Arnold smiled. God, such a smile could melt a thousand icy hearts into love puddles...

Boy, she had to write that down later! If there was a later.

"So you have two choices," Phoebe replied.

"Being?"

Arnold answered that time. "You either eat with us...or we take you to see Dr. Bliss and have her put you in the hospital."

She shrank back in fear. No! They couldn't! Only her parents could, right? Right?

Phoebe must have seen the terror in her eyes because she relaxed a bit and even began to comfort her. "Oh, Helga, you have to understand that we care for you. You can't do this to yourself."

She laughed, and the three stared at her in confusion. "Oh, I can't, can I? Please ask yourselves when the last time was that we four sat down and had a conversation." The three hung their heads. "Exactly my point. You three are not my friends. I have no friends."

Phoebe was actually weeping. "Oh, Helga!"

Helga stood and shook her head. "Don't say it. Just get out of my way, and stay out of my life. What do you care if I choose to end this hurt? This pain!" Instead of waiting for them to move, she climbed down the bleachers, using them as steps. "No one will miss me when I'm gone anyway."

Wrong choice of words. Suddenly, they were climbing the bleachers after her. How could she have let that slip, damn it? Maybe she really didn't want to die.

Yeah, right. Hadn't she told herself that no one needed her, that no one loved her? That no one could love her.

Bad bad BAD mistake. Soon, hands grabbed her by the shoulders, the wrists...whatever they could find, and she was marched to Dr. Bliss' office. The long march of impending doom.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She hated her life. Big Bob had yelled and yelled. Yelled for hours, and then for hours more. In the end, Dr. Bliss and her "friends" had won though. As Dr. Bliss phoned Highline Mental Health, Bob took turns yelling at her friends, and then at Helga, herself. He simply refused to believe that a Pataki could be weak. He went on to question if she was really a Pataki or not.

Well, fuck him. She couldn't care less. Maybe life would be better if she had other parents out there who actually gave a rat's ass about her. Not that she would tell him that though.

The worst part was when Bob turned on Arnold, calling him "orphan boy" again, and "wondering aloud" if "Alfred" was the one who needed help mentally. She watched silently as Bob berated Arnold, as Arnold listened, as Dr. Bliss talked on her cell phone, as Phoebe and Gerald held each other for support, as her mother sat there like a statue, taking it all in but never sticking up for her daughter, and Helga realized she could take no more. She stood up, walked over to the wall, and pounded her head against it while screeching. The noise stopped, and everyone looked at her.

Bob was the first to talk, of course. "Olga, what in the hell are you doing?"

"Helga, really," her mother said weakly.

Dr. Bliss and her friends just stared.

She could feel the anger boiling in her stomach, and she welcomed it. Maybe some things did need to be said before she left. Yes, perhaps, after all. Something to make them understand, something to make her understand.

"I HATE YOU ALL!"

The whole room stared at her like she'd lost her mind. Actually, she had.

She glared at Dr. Bliss and her friends. "Why, for Christ's sake, do you care about me now?? Sending me to the fucking hospital? Sure! That's really going to work! Those places are for people that really care about life. Get a clue! I DON'T!" she screamed. Then she turned to her parents, and for a minuscule amount of time, she actually felt sorry for them. They looked concerned, for once, but yet...yet.

They looked like they feared for their lives.

She nodded, smiling to herself. Good. Let them. "You two couldn't care less about anything I do. I can't take anymore of that 'Patakis are strong' shit that you feed me, Bob! When Olga was depressed, you two ran around here like idiots trying to find ways to make her happy, but when I'm depressed, do you even bother to check up on me? No! You wait until this shit happens, and then you do your best to make me feel guilty for feeling 'less than perfect.' Then you pretend you care, and the next day, everything's back to normal. Miriam's drunk off strawberry smoothies, and Bob's yelling at me to fix him some fucking breakfast because the stupid broad is drunk again, making me YET AGAIN late for my first class." Pointing at Bob, she shouted, "And that reminds me! You, YOU DON' T EVEN KNOW WHAT MY NAME IS! For the last fucking time, it's Helga, NOT Olga!" That said, she stomped upstairs to her bedroom.

As she lay down on her bed, she flipped on the TV and smiled, quite certain that little episode would change their minds. Hell, maybe they'd all even start to care more. Maybe even Arnold would ask her out. Maybe everyone cared more than she thought.

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She was in a loony bin, and no one cared. They'd left her in there to rot.

Three weeks she had been in there, and no one had visited her! Where the hell was everybody?

Sighing, she flipped through the three channels on the TV in the Rec room that didn't show snow. Two more minutes till Visiting Hour. Maybe someone would come today.

Yeah, and pigs would fly through the fucking window at any second.

She sighed again and picked up the nearest magazine, which she groaned at after noticing the title. Preteen Miss. Whee.

The heavy doors blocking off the ward from the rest of the hospital buzzed and began to slowly open. She didn't bother looking back. No one was coming. Ever.

"Helga Pataki, you have a visitor," the intercom announced, causing her to jump slightly. A visitor? Her?

Eh, it was probably just Phoebe, coming to apologize for going along with the stupid plan to put her in there. She smiled, preparing to hear an apology, and suddenly, a hand was on her shoulder. "Phoebe--"

"Phoebe? Were you expecting her?" a male voice -- Arnold's pleasant baritone -- asked.

"Arnold!"

He smiled, and she felt her heart racing beneath her breast like it was trying to run away from everything. She sure wished she could. "Are you glad to see me?" he asked, stirring her out of her thoughts.

She hid her face behind the magazine so he couldn't tell she was blushing. "No, just surprised is all. I don't get visitors."

He looked shocked. "Why? Restriction?"

"No," she replied bitterly, "just people that don't care."

He looked away. "I'm sorry, Helga. I do care. I just thought that someone...well, at least your parents would be here every night."

She laughed, and he glared at her. "Sorry, Arnoldo, but just because I have parents doesn't mean that they care about me." Then sighing, she asked, "Where's Phoebe? Why hasn't she been here?"

"She's studying for the PSAT."

She looked down, trying to stop herself from crying. Phoebe didn't care. "Great. She can't even give up one night just to come here. They're not the SATs, for Christ's sake!" The tears did start to fall then.

"Helga, don't cry," Arnold said soothingly, grabbing her hand. "We aren't sure what to say to you. I'm sorry," he said with regret in his voice, "I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's true. We don't know anyone that's tried to actually kill themselves. We aren't sure how to handle...how to handle--"

Angrily, she cut him off. "How to handle me, you mean," she hissed. She knew why he had come. He came to keep from feeling guilty about what she was doing. He didn't want to feel guilty when she died. No one wanted to feel guilty when she died. She rose from her chair. "That's all anyone cares about, isn't it? How you'll feel about yourselves when...when I'm g-gone," she managed to choke out. Never had she felt such hurt. It was too much, too much to keep hidden away. How much longer could she live in pain?

He stood, too, and shouted, "That's not true, Helga! You know it isn't! Everyone cares about you. Your friends, even your parents, I'm sure, in some way care."

"Even you?" she retaliated. A small part of her wished -- hoped -- in some way that he loved her, if only a little.

Her wish fizzled as he threw a piece of paper at her and walked away. "Read it," he called back to her. She watched as the nurses buzzed him out, and then, he was gone.

Tears fell freely down her cheeks, staining her black T-shirt darker. Black, like her thoughts, her mood.

She walked to her tiny room that she shared with a girl who talked to herself. She turned on the light, first checking the room to make sure that her roommate was away. When she didn't see her anywhere, she jumped on her bed and unfolded the tiny note. Soon, she was shocked by what Arnold had written for her.

"You think I've forgotten after all these years, but I haven't. That kiss still plays in my mind, over and over. I keep waiting for that girl to show up again some day, the one who introduced herself to me that night. The one who loves me and wouldn't want to hurt me. So please get better, Helga. It'll hurt me if something happens to you."

Did he really care, after all?

She laid her head into the bed's comforter and pulled her pillow over her head, trying to stifle her cries, but it didn't work. It was all too much for her to hold in, by herself. Out of frustration, out of anger, out of hurt, out of joy, out of love…she stared up at the sky, shaking violently...and let herself sob loudly. For lost chances. For new hope. For the woman she would become.

For the little girl, full of happiness and bright dreams, she had once been, long ago.


	4. It's Just Make-Believe

Disclaimer: Yes, you know who owns Hey Arnold! But the song, which is a very sad and disturbing song, is not mine. Therefore, it belongs to Jack Johnson, and the name is "The News". Listen to the meaning behind it, because things are not right in Helga's mind at the moment. I do make references to the first movie (due out in June) and the (now defunct?) second movie (where Arnold searches for his parents).

"Seeing With Open Eyes"

Chapter Three: "It's Just Make-Believe" by Houkanno Yuuhou

Phoebe lifted her eyes from the spot on which they had remained the entire story and smiled bitterly at her. "Helga, I'm sorry you felt that way at the time. I meant to visit you, but according to your parents, 'no one' was allowed to visit." She paused for a moment, contemplating. "Hm…I wonder why Arnold was allowed to visit?"

Helga laughed weakly, trying to soothe the anger building up inside. So it was her parents' faults, after all? And all that time, she'd thought no one cared for her! They had to have known what she was feeling, what she was going through! Why would they leave her alone like that??

To teach her a lesson, that's what. That Patakis always keep their mouths shut and sweep their feelings under the rug.

She sighed and then smiled, trying to lift her mood so Phoebe wouldn't ask questions about things best left to the past. "Oh, you remember how he was," she said in such a flighty way that she wanted to gag. "He could be very persuasive when he wanted something badly. He always wanted to solve our problems for us." Bad mistake, that was. That comment made her frown. 'Solve your problems, you mean,' her mind whispered.

Phoebe gawked at her, unbelieving. "What? While it's true that he always wanted to help, what do you mean, 'when he wanted something badly'? Is there something that happened between you two, something you haven't told me?"

She burst out laughing, and Phoebe glared at her. "Sorry, Pheebs," she said, smiling, "but I wish there had been. We were nothing more than friends." She looked down at the floor--anything to keep from looking at Phoebe. She hated to lie to her, but Phoebe would want to pry into something that was…well, nothing. She would never have anything with him. Not because of him. It was her fault she had burned the bridge between them.

"Whatever you say, Helga. You'll tell me when you are ready."

God, no. Not that. Why did Phoebe have to say THAT?

A tear slipped down her cheek. "Please don't say that, Phoebe. It brings up bad memories."

**************************************************************

It was a couple of days after the note that Arnold made his reappearance. She was listening to her radio when the nurse announced over the intercom that she had a visitor.

"Who the hell could it be now?" The nurse frowned at her, but truthfully, inside, Helga was trembling with rapturous joy.

The doors buzzed and slid open, and her anticipation ended when Arnold walked inside. He smiled and waved. "Hey there, Helga."

She felt like her heart could explode! He came back! He came back to see her when no one else would even be bothered with making the trek to the hospital to see her. She wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to—"What are you doing here, Arnoldo?" Well, so much for that. Her brain had other plans.

He frowned. "I thought you'd be happy to see me." The poor dear looked angry and uncomfortable…and something else. He looked sad.

Right…like he'd ever actually come out to see her because he really wanted to, she told herself. He probably still felt obligated to see her because of what happened. Yeah, that was it. "What do you want?" she asked impatiently.

He looked away, the aggravation and hurt evident in his eyes. "Did you read my letter?"

She sighed. Why in God's name did he have to bring up his letter now? "Uh…yes."

He still wouldn't look at her. "Can we go somewhere private, like someplace where we won't be stared at?"

"Huh?" She looked around her, and yes, damn it, everyone was watching them like they were the weekend movie or something. She grabbed his arm and led him to her room, though not before staring them down and muttering, "Damn bunch of busybodies. Criminey!"

When they were safely in her room, she shut her door and then stood there, with her arms crossed and a frustrated look on her face. Then she walked over to her bed and plopped down, stomach first, reveling in the comfort it held. She needed that comfort, that warmth that gave her a feeling of safety. She needed it for all it was worth because there he was, her football-headed love god, in the flesh, in her room. Hiding her rapidly blushing cheeks within her arms, she mumbled, "And you were saying?"

"Yeah." He paused and placed a chair in front of her.

God! What was she to do?? She looked straight ahead, but averted her eyes when she came in direct view of his…ahem…his pants. Well, not his pants, per say, but his…ah, forget it! The whole thing almost made her heart jump out of her throat, for Christ's sake!

Anyway….

"What do you think?"

She gulped and stuttered, "W-what? Think a-b-bout w-what?" She couldn't stop thinking about where her eyes had been previously.

_God, Helga! Stop it!!_

He looked at her with obvious confusion written in his stare. "What do you think it's about, Helga? The letter!"

"Oh." She desperately needed to change the subject! She looked out her window, trying to gain his attention. "Uh, it sure is a nice day! Is it hot out there? It, uh, sure is hot in here!" she exclaimed in distress while absentmindedly rubbing her arm.

"Helga? Are you okay?"

She laughed, and damned if she didn't sound like a moron! "Yeah, sure! I'm right as rain!"

He groaned. "Then quit changing the subject." Defeated, she nodded, and he cleared his throat, moving on. "It isn't easy for me either, okay?"

She looked up at him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? "Huh?"

He laughed nervously. "Well, I wasn't sure how you'd react after reading that. I just…well, I didn't know what to say. I wanted to show you that you were wrong—"

"Say what?" she blurted out. Damn her brain for not letting him finish! She sounded harsher than usual, but she didn't mean it! She just couldn't understand what he was trying to say!

He was unmoved though; even daring enough to look her in the eyes now, as if he was searching for something. But what? "You are wrong," he said flatly. "People do care. I care."

God, she wanted to melt. He cared about her! It was a dream come true…but still….

But still, her mind had its problems believing he could care about her. And she voiced that. "I don't believe you. Why would you care about me?"

"Because you are my friend, Helga."

So that was all. Just 'a friend'. Never anything more for her. She laughed sarcastically. "Just a friend, huh?"

His lips started to tremble, and she could tell that her beloved…was getting pissed off. "I know how you feel about me, Helga. I've never forgotten. But you have to understand how I feel! It hasn't been easy at all for me—"

"WHAT?" she yelled. No matter how much she loved him, she wasn't going to sit there and let him berate her! "Just who the hell do you think you are—"

He cut her off. "Would you let me finish?" he hissed. Sighing, she nodded. She felt hurt and betrayal more than she felt anger. He began again. "You know I went on that search for my parents, and when I found them, we came back here."

"Yes." Where was he going with this?

"Well, that whole time I was gone, I thought a lot about you and what you told me. I began to understand why you did all the things you did. I forgave you, and well," he said, blushing, "I even began to like you. No…to love you. You are what got me through a lot of nights. It was what you told me that made me believe in myself enough to prevail."

She smiled, becoming hopeful. "Thank you, Arnold."

He grinned back. "Yeah, well, I should thank you. Anyway, after I found them, and after I came back to Hillwood, I came to school, determined to tell you that I could finally return your feelings. But," he sighed, and then his voice trailed off.

Her hopes were fizzling before her eyes. After all this time, he loved her! He wanted to tell her! She had been dreaming about kissing him, and then…he said, 'But.' Her body had been so close to feeling giddy with happiness, with love—returned love!! She was finally beginning to know how a person feels when they are loved back, and then he had to dash it. On the verge of tears, her voice cracking, she asked meekly, "But?"

"But you aren't the same, Helga." He sighed. "When I came back, I was ready to tell you, but you weren't the same girl."

"What do you mean?" she managed to croak out.

"I'm not talking about beauty," he paused, looking her over, "because you have become quite a beautiful girl. I'm talking about your attitude. Your personality has changed, Helga, and changed drastically. You used to be tough, but at least you could talk to people. You acted as if nothing in the world could ever get you down." He looked at his hands, tracing the lines of his palms with an unsteady index finger. "When I saw you again, you looked lost and hurt. You still do. You look as if a wind could blow you away any minute. I'm not saying that I don't love you—because I still do. I'm saying that I want to find out what's wrong with you. I don't understand why you think that no one loves you. I know that your parents can be unbearable sometimes—"

"Don't go there, Arnold," she warned. "You don't know even a smidgen about them, not the 'real' them."

"Okay, so I don't, and I promise I won't ask," he said, raising his right hand with a growing smile on his face. "Campfire Lads' honor." She wasn't amused, and he looked down again dejectedly. "Anyway, I don't know why you tried to kill yourself. Why would you do that, Helga? Why is it you feel you can't talk to anyone about anything other than school? You have so many friends you could talk to."

She began to get angry then. How dare he! He'd been gone for years before he came back. He didn't know how she was treated after he left. "Friends? What friends?" she laughed. "Phoebe? After she went through puberty, she started hanging around Gerald. No time for Helga anymore. No, not when Helga's so damn moody and crying all the time. And Geraldo never liked me to begin with, and even encouraged Phoebe to avoid me. Rhonda? Miss Culture has no time for lowly peasants like me, and her friends don't either. And Harold, Stinky, and Sid have done nothing but torture me since I grew a chest!" she screamed, suddenly haunted by all the times that the terrible trio had confronted her. She began to cry. "You left, Arnold! No one was the same after you left! And they all turned against me. The only time someone paid attention to me was when," she began to tremble with disgust at herself," was when those three tried to grab my breasts! They have tortured and tormented me for years, Arnold…but how would you know?" she shouted. "YOU LEFT!"

He actually looked shocked. "They did that to you??" He calmed down and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Helga."

She scoffed. "Did you really believe that people would remain the same after you were gone? They didn't have your direction to guide them anymore, so everyone fell apart. I fell apart." She couldn't talk anymore, her throat ached so. Instead, she rested her head on the bed and sobbed into the covers, letting the soft material hide her tears. Geez, her body felt so heavy, like lead. She just wanted to sink through the bed, through the floor, through the EARTH…to get away. Such an idiot she was! Why did she have to go and tell him all of that? What was it about those eyes that made her lift the weight of the world from her shoulders, if only for a second?

"Do you care if I turn on your radio?" she heard him ask. She nodded, not bothering to look up. She heard the sounds of him standing and the chair creaking, and then she heard his footsteps as he moved toward the window. A switch was flipped, and the room was filled with a sorrowful song. Inside, she felt like dying.

"A billion people died on the news tonight,

But not so many cried at the terrible sight;

'Well,' mama said,

'It's just make-believe,

You can't believe everything you see,

So baby close your eyes to the lullabies

On the news tonight….'"

Why did she always try so hard? Why did she always feel like she had to compromise her true feelings just for others? First, for others' respect, and now, for others' friendship. She had to actually stop being her normal self just so she could be…well, normal for others. Always, she felt like she was killing pieces of her real self just to live.

"I hate me," she whispered to no one.

"Helga?"

"I do. I hate me. No one really knows me. Maybe you have had glances into my soul, but that's all they are. You can't even begin to comprehend who I am." She smiled slightly. "But I wouldn't want you to. I love your innocence, Arnold. I love the part of you that believes in the good of humanity because God knows…I sure can't. That's why I don't understand why you feel you have to know everything about me. Don't you see? If you learn the real me, you wouldn't like me either. Nothing is ever as it seems. Not completely. I'm not the bully, nor am I the romantic poet. I'm sweetness and sourness. My soul is millions of shades of gray. I am ugly, Arnold," she cried. "Ugly throughout."

"Who's the one to decide that it would be alright

To put the music behind the news tonight;

'Well,' mama said,

'You can't believe everything you hear,

The diagetic world is so unclear,

So baby close your ears,'

On the news tonight,

On the news tonight…."

"Helga—"

Her whole body was shaking, and she was having a miserable time trying to control it. Why did life have to be so unfair, the world so cruel? Why did she have to be born??

The music played on.

"The unobtrusive tones on the news tonight,

And mama said,

Mmm,

Why don't the newscasters cry when they read about people who die,

At least they could be decent enough to put just a tear in their eyes;

Mama said,

'It's just make-believe,

You can't believe everything you see,

So baby close your eyes to the lullabies

On the news tonight.'"

She sniffed back more tears and coughed. "Arnold, please just hold me. Hold me as if that wind is going to take me away."

He did so, and nothing had ever felt more wonderful or satisfying in her whole life. Her body gave off a violent shake, and then the tears fell. And it was so...so cleansing.

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Sorry, there will be more to this soon, but I have to stop for now.


	5. The Both of Us Can Bleed

A quick note: I apologize in advance for the terrible formatting, but I've tried and tried to fix things, but this site is being a douche, so I give up. I also apologize for taking so long to continue this again, but I have to be in a certain state of mind to write this, and quite honestly, I thought it was crap compared to other stories on this site, so I stopped. I don't know what persuaded me to start writing again.

"Leechmaster" belongs to Fear Factory.

Chapter Four: "The Both of Us Can Bleed"

"I've never stopped loving you, Arnold."

It left her lips as simply as that, so hushed yet clear, and of course, he hugged her tighter. How good and right it felt to be in his arms! How good and right it felt to admit her love! Damn her foul mouth for ever taking it back in the first place. All these years she could have been doing this, with him! She'd lost out on so much. "I mean it. I can't stop. Even if you hate me one day--"

"I don't hate you, Helga. I could never hate you."

"I know, I know," she snorted, allowing herself a small smile. "You don't have a hating bone in your body, but still, you never know." Then she snuggled against him and took in his wonderful smell. Oh, that delicious aroma of his shampoo! What brand did he use again? He smelled freshly of apple blossoms and newly cut grass.

"Do you feel any better?"

She nodded. "Some. In my line of work, it's hard to ever truly feel 'OK'" He gave her a strange look, and she smirked. "Just kidding...somewhat."

He flashed that grin that would light a million powerless homes, and she felt her toes curling in excitement as she mentally rushed to contain her more girlish emotions. "I'm glad to see you still have your sense of humor."

"Yeah, well...thanks." She scratched the back of her head nervously. "I try."

She felt his arms release her from their loving embrace, and for a short moment, she had to restrain herself from grabbing him and returning him to his previous position because she knew that would be something next to smothering. She didn't want to be that type of girly girl. She didn't want to be...Lila. Still, she was slightly disappointed...no one but her would ever know what it was like to be held by perfection, her mind mused.

"So...how can I help you get better?"

Ah! There it was, that perfection again! Oh, Arnold, ever the chivalrous hero, desperately yearning to rescue this haphazard maiden who would forever be hateful and cruel in everyone's eyes! Oh, Arnold--

A smack to her face brought her back to reality, as it always had, but this time, the lovelorn look stayed, and she sighed. "Uh...I don't know. Maybe, marry me?"

He quickly jumped from the bed. "What?? M-marry?!"

"I'm just joking, of course." No she wasn't, but she couldn't let him know that his reaction had hurt her, and she felt like someone was twisting a knife back and forth in her heart. "I...that is...would you...? I mean...argh, damn it!" She grabbed her hair in frustration and yanked really hard. "This is hard! Why does it have to be so hard? Everything else seems easy by comparison!"

He took her hands in his, and she watched as he shook his head at the strands of hair still within her grasp. "Why does what have to be hard?"

She looked down at the dirty gray comforter. Another song began to play on the radio, and instantly, she recognized it and cursed the station because they had impeccable timing. This song always made her cry. "Letting you break my heart, Arnold. That's what's so hard, but I have to do it sometime, I know."

"_What you feel  
Are your needs  
All you want  
Is to be loved_

_Pain! Love! Pain!"_

"I won't break your heart, Helga." And then just like a knight out of a fairytale, he kissed her hand. If she wasn't so miserable, she would've swooned.

Instead, she smiled a half-smile of sadness, understanding, and pain. "One day, Arnold. Even if I hurt you first, one day, you'll hurt me, and there'll be nothing that either of us can do to stop it. I know that my life will never be like those silly dreams I had as a kid. Those are a little girl's dreams of marriage and happiness, like playing house. I've always entertained the thought of playing house with you, Arnold."

"_But can you give  
Someone else  
The same love  
That you want_

_Pain! Love! Pain!"_

"We aren't playing house. What I feel for you is real."

A knowing laugh escaped her lips. "Maybe what you feel is real, but what I feel...I'm not even sure anymore. I don't know if I could ever love you like you want to be loved. I do love you...but I don't know if it's a little girl's love or a woman's love." Those beautiful emerald eyes showed so much confusion, and all she wanted to do was stop talking so she could hold him. Arnold had always brought out the 'nice, motherly side' that she was constantly pushing back. She wanted to stroke his hair and coo in his ear, to treat him like he was hers.

But he would never be hers.

"All of the kisses you've given me...those weren't some little girl's infatuation."

A real smile. "You remember those, too?" She tried to duck her head so he wouldn't see her blushing, but it was too late.

"I have to admit, Helga...no one can kiss quite like you. It's like...like you--"

"Put my whole soul into it?"

"Yeah." He moved closer to her, and really, she would admit for years to come that she could never be ready when it was Arnold making the first move. It was a notion that both excited and scared her. Well, doi, she wanted to be kissed – any girl wanted to be kissed – but what would happen when the kissing is over, now that was the scary part.

"_Come and take my pain  
And soon you will see  
That I will taste your pain  
The both of us can bleed"_

"Because I do. All of my passion...and desire...needs...and love – I want to give all of it to you. Only you."

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Fingers rapidly drummed against the clipboard, but the petite woman in front of her still sniffled a little. "You two went out, and you never told me? Your best friend?"

"We weren't really best friends in those days. You know that." She rested her legs over the cot and then began to slowly move them from side to side to relax herself like she had taught herself to do years ago. "You were more interested in catering to Gerald's every whim." She grinned, trying to change the subject from her to her former friend. "Looks like you still are. How many years have you been married?"

Phoebe adjusted the pretty diamond ring on her finger. "Not yet. We're just engaged."

"What's keeping you? You two have always been all over each other, for all the years I've known you."

"It takes money to get married." A bitter sigh. "Quit changing the subject."

Could Phoebe actually look intimidating? "S-sorry."

Another sigh and a quick rub to the temples. "You've changed. You were different, but you were still you, at least, when we all last spoke." Helga frowned. She could barely remember when that was, but she did remember that it was less than pleasant. She recalled screaming something and then taking off for college, in a hurry to get away from there and away from them. "I'm sorry, Helga. I let you down back then. Come hell or high water, I should have made a better effort to take care of you."

"Take care of me? Why does everyone feel like they have to take care of me?"

Finally, Phoebe smiled. "Because you really need us to, and admit it, you enjoy it."

She hung her head shyly, avoiding Phoebe's gaze. Thrusting her arms in the air for emphasis, she halfheartedly shouted, "Well, if you all feel the need to baby me, then why should I stop you?" Then she laughed, and after a few minutes, her former friend joined her. She couldn't remember the last time she felt safe enough to let someone fuss over her. Certainly not with Todd. With him, the need to take care of her – no matter whether his intentions were innocent or not – was a prerequisite for their marriage.

And there had never been a day that went by where he didn't remind her of that. She shivered.

The air in the room changed, and soon, Phoebe was back into professional mode again. "So how are you going to take care of me, doc?"

She glanced up from her charts. "As in accordance with the state, you'll be on a 72-hour hold to make certain that you don't try a repeat performance." Helga wrinkled her nose in annoyance. "I know it stinks, but it's the law. After the 72 hours is up, if we decide that you're well enough to be off the hold, then you can either go through our outpatient services or you can admit yourself into the hospital for inpatient care." She looked Helga in the eyes and stated rather plainly, "I'd prefer you to do the latter. I don't think you're ready to go home, and putting it quite honestly, I don't trust your husband."

The same old excuses came from her mouth. "Todd's not perfect, I know, but he tries. He's under a lot of stress at work, and then there's the baby."

Phoebe chewed at the end of her pencil, a faraway look on her face. "There's that, too. I'm worried about you both. I'm not blind. I can see all of the old scars and fresh bruises." Tears formed at the corner of her eyes. "What did he do to you, Helga? You were never a coward."

Her own tears slipped down her face as she realized how funny that statement was. "Yes, I was. I still am. You have no idea how many times I took back how much I loved him, Phoebe."

Phoebe nodded, knowing she was no longer talking about Todd. "You still love him."

"I always will, but I have to love Todd now, don't you see? Todd can hurt me as much as he wants to physically, and eventually, the pain goes away, but only Arnold can hurt me emotionally, and when he does, the pain goes straight to my very core, and it stays forever. I can't deal with that kind of pain...no matter how much love comes with it."


	6. Seeking the Solace

Terrible formatting ahoy! I can't seem to make HTML or any other sort of formatting work. Can anyone help with that? I'll fix the old chapters in a little while. Anyway, here's the next part to the story, and I apologize to the reviewer who thought I would update again in 2012 – sorry for being so damn early. Honestly, I have a life outside of fanfiction that includes my own original writings, my children and husband, and my failing health. I'd love to update more often, but it's hard to think when you're in so much pain. Thanks for comparing me to Heidi Patacki – she's a friend from my old days at the HA forums. "Ribbons/Hair/Never/There" is an excellent piece of work, and I'm pleasantly surprised to be mentioned along with it. Seriously, I'll try to be a better updater. The few reviews I get help me plug along as well, so thanks to everyone.

This is dedicated to Marcos, whom I give my eternal love and thanks to, for being inspired by me and caring about my failing health. I hope we can work on something together soon.

Chapter Five: "Seeking the Solace"

_So I turn to you my love  
(For the solace that is there)  
And offer any cherished thing  
(For a slight reprieve)  
I hoped that you might find me here  
(And I could learn to smile again)  
As a balm for these wounds  
(Take away the sting) _

From "Solace" by Fuel

Thu-da-dump, thu-da-dump, thu-da-dump. Fingers rapped impatiently against the crusty old white paint of the windowpane. She'd been in this situation once before, but she kept pushing the memory away because it involved that-boy-with-the-cornflower-hair-and-jellybean-green-eyes, and right now, she didn't want to dwell on him because the pain, even after all of these years, was still fresh and twisted in her heart like an angry knife.

Why, oh why, had she let herself be talked into admission? Damn Phoebe and her "this is good for you" tone of voice that left you feeling like a doe trapped in the headlights of a Ford F-150! Before you even knew what was coming – BAM! You're flattened to the pavement...but when you look back to get the license-plate number from that truck, you find a small Mini Cooper instead.

She sighed. What was the use? She always ended up at these places, no matter how much she hated them.

She had been aching to leave when the 72-hour hold was up because, simply put, she felt like a caged animal waiting for the door to open...open just a little bit so she could spring forward into sweet freedom. No matter how old she got, one thing never changed – life as an mental ward patient. Nurses ignoring you, unless it was to tell you when to eat, sleep, shit, piss, fart, or whatever. Lousy, bland hospital food. No chance to go outside to get some fresh air for fear that you'd escape to your death. Her saving grace was Phoebe's visits, but they only lasted forty-five minutes, and most of that time was talk about how Helga was feeling trapped in the hospital. Unfortunately for her though, it was evident that she wasn't getting any better, so Phoebe had persuaded her to admit herself, promising to take better care of her than previous doctors had. So far, it hadn't been so bad, but Helga found herself reacting like some kind of Pavlov's dog when it came to Phoebe's visits.

She needed a hobby. Something that didn't revolve around pestering nurses or staring out her window.

Todd had been by once since she had been admitted, or so she was told. She'd never actually seen him, only heard second-hand that there were orders from her doctor – Phoebe, obviously – that barred him from entering the ward. Oh, how grateful she was for that, too, as she wasn't quite sure what she would do if she did see him in her current state. Part of her wanted to rage against him, to unleash all of the hellish fury that had been buried within her over the years. Too many years of "yes, Todd," "no, sir," "can I get that for you," and other such nonsense had left her weak mouth. So many bruises and scars had been left on her weak body. Poor pathetic Helga had just let it all happen to _her_, when she could have been making it happen to _him_.

But that other part of her just wanted to go home, to forget about her little "lapse in judgment" because she hated change – had always hated change – and after so many years of polishing the furniture, doing the laundry, taking painstaking care of those white carpets, being on the receiving end of Todd's weird angry idea of love...well, she didn't know anything else. That part of her loved him back, as warped as she told herself it was, because he did take care of her. If she left now, how would she take care of herself? She'd never held a job, never worried about paying the bills, didn't have to drive herself anywhere – God knows she hadn't been out of the house in a long time and her pale complexion was the proof to that, and above all, she hadn't been alone since her first year of college.

Well, not exactly. She hadn't _lived _alone since then, but she had certainly felt alone throughout the years.

She laughed at herself. Shouldn't she be used to feeling like that by now? It wasn't as if she hadn't grown up feeling nothing but loneliness.

Maybe she was really kidding herself about getting away from everyone. After all, how many times did she need to remind herself that every little smack and punch was just karma getting her back for her childhood bully act? What goes around, comes around.

The door to her room slowly opened, and she didn't even need to turn around to know that those footsteps belonged to Phoebe. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. Busy day, Helga?"

"Huh? Oh...sorry for not going to those group therapy exercises, but I just needed some time to think." Helga paused and smirked. "Well, that, and I don't think the nurse from 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' in there likes me very much."

Phoebe bit her lip to keep from smiling. "Yes, I've heard about the hard time you give her."

"It's not on purpose, I swear. I'm just not feeling like myself."

Her friend gave her an odd look. "Actually, I'd say that you're acting more like your normal self."

Helga laughed bitterly. "Really, Pheebs, you above all people should know what constitutes for normal, and what I am is so completely removed from it. I don't know what normal is."

Phoebe lowered herself into one of the ugly, fading fuchsia chairs and placed her clipboard, notes, and file neatly in her lap. She licked the tip of her pencil thoughtfully before putting it against a new sheet of paper in preparation. "What's so horrible about the old you?"

"Should I have to remind you?"

"Well, let's pretend this is the first time we've ever met. Tell me in your own words what you find repulsive about you as you were then."

Helga fiddled nervously with her fingers, twisting them until they were throbbing red and shocking white. "You know what I was like. I bullied everyone."

"You were insecure."

"And there's that." She blew a strand of blond hair out of her face and sighed. "I miss my pigtails, some days."

Phoebe scribbled something down on her paper. "I'll remember to bring you in some elastic bands tomorrow, if you want. I'll even make sure to get pink ones."

She smiled, and Helga smiled back. "You always knew me best." As she turned to look out the window again, her mood darkened. "I'm sorry, you know. For kicking you out of my life. You don't know how much I've missed you or how many times I tried to call you...I'd dial your parents' number and hang up when someone answered because I just couldn't...I couldn't..." Tears formed in her eyes, and instead of angrily brushing them away, she just let them fall. "I didn't want you to see me like this. I didn't want you to...to be mad at me. You were so mad at me during our final years in school. I felt like I was letting you down because I just couldn't be me anymore. I couldn't keep putting on that hateful mask every morning and pretending that I couldn't feel anything. I just wanted to be normal, like everyone else."

A small laugh came from Phoebe, and Helga glared at her, obviously not expecting that reaction. "So you were the 'heavy breather'. Mom thought there was a secret admirer for a long time." Helga was still firing menacing looks her way, causing Phoebe to blush. "Sorry, sorry."

"I'm glad I could bring so much amusement," Helga muttered sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, seriously. Look, Helga, I wasn't myself back then, either. I was actually pretty selfish."

"You...selfish?"

Phoebe waved a hand to shush her. "Yes, me. I relied on you to be the strong one to make up for my own lack of strength. That wasn't right. Friendship is give and take. When you were falling, I should have been there picking you up, but instead I was more concerned that you were dragging me down with you. I really must thank you though, because you made me grow up and depend on myself."

"So that's why you're so intimidating now!" Helga joked.

Her friend smirked. "Well, my Ol' Betsy and the Five Avengers are alone time in isolation with a shot of Thorazine, but those are just as effective."

Helga couldn't help but gulp nervously a little after she heard that. A shot to the ass and body restraints were not her idea of a fun weekend. She shook the image from her head and cleared her throat. "So," she began hesitantly, "am I in trouble for leaving group?"

"Well, if you're thinking that's what I have planned for you, then you can rest easily because it's not." The relieved sigh did not escape Phoebe's ears. "I'd like you to go to this afternoon's group only because you may find it relaxing. They're having a writing session where you are given a theme, and then everyone gets together to read what they've come up with. I know how much you love to write."

"I'm out of practice."

"That won't matter--"

"Like a decade out of practice, Phoebe!"

The small woman's mouth formed a razor thin line, and Helga could almost see the steam coming from her ears. "Still won't matter. Will you just do it because I asked?"

Helga hung her head in defeat. "Because you asked. Don't even think I'll do it for anyone else," she added harshly.

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"Again, why did I let Phoebe talk me into this?" Helga huffed miserably.

A small plump woman with frizzy auburn hair was going on and on about writing to relieve stress and put emotions on paper that otherwise won't come out. The fat therapist reminded her of an older Dr. Bliss; she'd heard the "benefits of writing" speech before.

"Now, let's get our pens and our tablets so we can get started. The theme for today is solace. What's comforting to you? How do you show others that you care in their time of need? When was the last time your mother held you?" The woman paused to glance at her watch and then looked at the group again. "You can begin."

"Well, this ought to be simple." Helga picked up her pen and began to write.

_I can answer the last question easily. When is the last time I felt my mother's touch? Hm, I'd have to say maybe the sixth grade when my period started. She gave me one of those "awkward motherly hugs" that she's famous for, then she congratulated me by telling me that Bob would kill me if I got pregnant any time soon. Let's not forget that she left me to clean up my own bloody mess. At least I wasn't one of those idiots who think they're dying when they see blood. I'd known about "the birds and the bees" for a while before it started._

_As for that second question, I don't know what to tell you. I don't do the whole comforting thing. I try, don't get me wrong, but thanks to my frigid parents' example, I'm just not terribly good at doing it. I tried when I first got married, but my husband showed me quickly that he didn't want my "pity". _

_You know, I used to love him. I tried to make him another version of Arnold, and somewhere deep inside, I think he may have been had life went differently for him, but he's missing some of Arnold's other qualities. You see, they come from similar backgrounds...except his parents didn't die – they just took off when he was little and left him to be raised by his aunt and uncle. They made him do things...things he doesn't like to discuss with anyone, but I got enough out of him one night when his guard was down. "Unique forms of child abuse" is the phrase that comes to mind. His aunt and uncle used to make him participate in their sex acts._

_But you see, if he'd been Arnold, he'd never allowed that to happen, and most importantly, he wouldn't have grown to enjoy doing it. And he wouldn't have forced me to join...but let's not talk about that right now._

_What's comforting to me? Nothing. Well, I have a good friend here, helping me. That's a start, I suppose, but really, I'm so far gone now that it isn't a matter of that I don't want to be comforted...it's just that I don't deserve it. I'm not innocent. I've done too many bad things in my life, and I've even enjoyed doing a few of them. I'm as bad as Todd. I admit, a few times I've gotten off on him hitting me or tying me up and forcing his way onto me. I've even pretended it was Arnold doing it, even though I didn't recognize the face I imprinted over Todd's._

_Yeah, I'm sick. If it was Arnold doing these things to me, I wouldn't even mind. So I shouldn't mind when Todd does them, right?_

_But he's not Arnold. No, he may seem like him, may act like him, and may even look a little like him in some ways, but I know the real him, and he's not Arnold. No matter how much I try to make him be. How much I want him to be._

_Arnold used to be my comfort, the relief to my sad existence. One time, I even allowed myself to be loved by him, but his love was too gentle...and I wanted someone to be rough with me. Because I'm punishing myself for all the things I've ever done, for all the things I will continue to do. Arnold was my own personal Christ. I guess originally I just wanted my "god" to forgive me for being me and to love me unconditionally. But Arnold wanted a real relationship. Arnold wanted me to love him as a human being with faults, and I couldn't do that. I was unwilling. Why was I so stupid?_

_One night, I almost had him. It was beautiful. I'd been taking little stabs at him all day long to the point that I realized he was ready to strangle me, and in the middle of fighting, he actually did try to choke me; to shut me up, I guess. And then he brought his lips down to mine in the middle of it all. It was so strangely satisfying that I just wanted more, so I fought against him to make him take control, and that's just what he did, all right. He became more forceful and ground himself into me, and I think I actually came then. I couldn't help myself. I know he did a little, too, because his pants were wet and sticky. _

_But all good things come to an end, in more ways than one._

_He realized what he was doing, and he...stopped. He started apologizing for "taking advantage" of me, and I wanted to laugh at him, just to let him know that it was all in fun, but I couldn't. Part of the thrill for me was to let him think he really had taken advantage because I wanted him to do it again in the future._

_But there wouldn't be a future for us. Arnold was so stricken and disgusted with himself for what he thought he'd nearly done to me, and after a while, when I tried for a repeat, he told me he couldn't do that stuff because it wasn't right. So when I went for broke and told him it had excited me, he went for broke, too. As in "break up". He said he wasn't mad at me...you know, the typical "it's not you, it's me" crap. He said he didn't think he could give me what I wanted. And I think that's when I realized that he's really too much like Arnold Christ instead of Arnold Shortman, that he was too high above little perverted me. You don't fuck Christ._

_He told me he understood why I was doing this to myself, and then he asked me why I needed to keep destroying my chances at happiness and normalcy. I couldn't answer him. I really didn't know. I still don't know._

_I know he still loved me after that, and I think a small part of him even still lusted after me, too, but we just couldn't be together anymore. It was too awkward. Even though we remained friends – up until my abrupt departure, heh. Arnold continued to comfort me, to love me, in some sort of taboo way since we weren't a couple. I think it was his way of trying to get me to change for him. Or maybe he was just too afraid to admit that he might want me the way I wanted him. Arnold was always too much of a goody-goody, so of course he rebelled against the idea of that kind of relationship. It came naturally to him. But I saw his darker side, and I enjoyed it._

_Arnold remained my solace for many years, if only in inspiration, but a few years after my marriage, and I had what I thought I wanted, I made myself forget everyone, especially him, because it all hurt too much. If I could have forgotten my family, too, that would have helped, but that's not possible. Damn it all. Well, I can't really say that. They aren't that bad. They have their moments, but yeah, they really aren't that bad. We're just not a close family, not until we need to be._

_What's my comfort now? I don't know. My own sick fantasies, I suppose. Like my daydreams where this baby is Arnold's or where he comes here to tell me that he needs me. And in some sicker fantasies, where he and Todd take turns at me. Because I'm a glutton for punishment._

_I used to bully so many people, but only Arnold knew how much I bullied myself._

_A good song goes, "If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?" I wish I could find solace in that. I wish I could just fade away and forget, focus on becoming a star, becoming one with the universe. Because I really don't like whom I am, what I've become._

_Arnold, please come save me from myself._

_You're nuts if you think I'm reading this to anyone, Phoebe, and don't go squealing this to anyone or else...well, you know._


	7. Saying Sorry

Dedicated to those people who have been encouraging me (you know whom you are), and also dedicated to those people who've been wondering when Arnold would make his way into the picture again. :)

Chapter Six: "Saying Sorry"

_Panic called you out and took you in_

_Giving you an easy game_

_And letting you win_

_You're giving back a little hatred_

_Now to the world_

_'Cause it treated you bad_

_'Cause you couldn't keep_

_The great unknown from making you mad_

_Said your final word_

_But honesty and love could've kept us together_

_One day you'll see_

_It's worth it after all_

_If you ever want to say you're sorry_

_You can give me a call_

From "A Question Mark" by Elliott Smith

"You know what you are? You're absolutely crazy!" Blond locks of hair flew wildly in the air, and the woman who owned them looked slightly bewildered. Each time she spoke, her words carried more and more venomous anger with them. "That's what you are!! What the hell is wrong with you, Phoebe??" Phoebe opened her mouth to say something but was cut off. "What possessed you to think I'd actually do that?! Are you nuts?!?"

Again, Phoebe tried to speak, but after nearly five minutes of a full-blown tirade, she gave up and waited for her to finish. There was no point in trying to talk when Helga was in one of her "moods".

"Why on earth would you want me to call him? He and I are over, Pheebs, and I'm married with a baby on the way! Do you think Arnold would really want to pick up where we left off?? Ha!" Helga thrust her hands behind her back and began to pace in a circle around Phoebe's tiny office. She knew she was thinking out loud, and it was pissing off her old friend, but she couldn't help herself. Phoebe had asked her what she thought about ringing up Arnold, and for one brief moment, she had entertained the idea. She had let it dance around in her head, and she had danced merrily with it until she realized what all this joyous dancing really meant. Then she had kicked it off the stage. "I don't know, I don't know. Would he really want to hear from me? No, that's absurd! You just don't call someone up after almost ten years and say, 'Hey, I recently realized that I never stopped loving you. In fact, I still regularly lust after you, so what do you say about us going at it like a couple of animals? Also, newsflash -- I'm not fat; I'm just pregnant.'" She looked at Phoebe and shook her head. "I can't do it. You can kick me out of here, if you want, but I can't make that call. He's probably changed over the years, and I'm worse. He hated me like this, Phoebe. He didn't understand why I...why I need him to do it to me. If he catches wind of Todd, what will I do then? What will he think of me?" Her voice began to crack as she was on the verge of tears again. Oh, God. What would Arnold think of her if he knew she had gotten worse?

Phoebe readjusted her glasses and then coughed. "Are you finished then?"

"Yeah, I guess I am," Helga mumbled and then plopped back onto the leather couch.

The petite Asian-American began to chew her lip and click her pen against her clipboard, a sure sign that she was deep in thought – or just a little nervous. Helga couldn't quite remember which it was as both emotions looked the same on Phoebe. She coughed again and then refocused her attention on Helga. "There's something I should tell you."

"This can't be good," Helga joked, just to hide her anxiety.

The tiniest of smirks crept onto Phoebe's face. "Well, that depends, really. I think it is. What you think, however, may be different."

"OK, that's enough. Spill, Heyerdahl."

"He knows."

"Who knows?" Helga asked, a tad annoyed, and then it slowly dawned on her. "Oh...oh! He knows?? How did he find out, Phoebe?!"

Phoebe held up her hands in defense. "I didn't tell him, Helga! There's that whole patient-doctor confidentiality thing, remember?" Then she looked at the floor, her voice almost a whisper. "Gerald told him."

Helga jumped from her chair, scaring the other woman. "What!!" She started pulling on her hair in frustration – an old habit she'd picked up from her father. "What the hell, Pheebs! What sort of mess have you gotten me into??"

Now in the past, the old Phoebe would have cowered and apologized like crazy, but this new grown Phoebe wasn't about to let someone – including someone she considered her oldest, dearest friend – treat her with disrespect, even if the tiniest part of old Phoebe felt the anger was justified. She stood and crossed her arms, glaring at Helga, who wasn't ready for this side of her friend. "I've gotten you into nothing you don't want to be in! It was merely a suggestion. I'm not asking you to lay your heart on the line again. I'm just asking you to be friends. He really wants you back in his life, Helga. I didn't want to tell you before because I knew you weren't ready, and judging by your display today, you still aren't. You may have stopped all contact with him and everyone else, but Gerald and I are still his friends. Oh!" She pinched her nose and sat back down in her swivel chair. "Just give me a minute, OK? Major headache coming on."

Helga nodded, suddenly feeling guilty. "Look, I'm--"

Phoebe shushed her. Then she took off her glasses and rubbed her forehead. Helga watched impatiently as she cleaned the lens and then restored the frames to their proper place. "This is me speaking as your best friend now, not your psychologist. Helga, for years after you left, Gerald and I had to comfort Arnold because he was so miserable. I don't think he's ever really stopped loving you. Honestly, you two are so much the same, it's ridiculous," she muttered, then laughed to herself. "Every day during college, he would fight with himself about calling you to make up, but then he would assure himself that things were better off if he didn't."

Helga sighed, wishing he had went through with those attempts. "I didn't know. Why did he think he'd better off?"

The look on Phoebe's face was quite curious. First, her eyes were wide with sudden remembrance, and then they narrowed with a her lips curling into a sly grin. "He didn't think he'd be better off. He was trying to save you." She rolled her eyes. "From himself."

"Huh??"

Phoebe broke out into laughter. "Well, you see, one night while Arnold was intoxicated, he started releasing little tidbits of information. Your therapy assignment wasn't the first time I've heard of your tendencies."

Helga felt her face warming from embarrassment. He had told them?? That should have been a secret...up until she spilled it, that is. "I can't believe the nerve of him."

"Don't worry about it. It's not surprising, really, and I wasn't surprised at the time when he mentioned it to me and Gerald. Aggressive people, people used to being in charge, usually have a fondness for BDSM. That's well documented. Having someone take your ability to control from you is a way of relaxing and relieving stress." Phoebe paused, staring at Helga thoughtfully. "What surprised me was that Arnold liked being in control of you. That's why he wouldn't call. For a long time, before I finally convinced him that his feelings are normal, he thought he was some sort of sick monster. He didn't know why he'd been so excited whenever he forced you to give in to him."

Helga remembered back to the few times they'd been together before she left for college. She'd never gotten far with him, especially not after the first time, but a few times when they had been bored and lonely while laying on his bed, he had initiated some heavy make-out sessions, and she'd always figured that it was his way of trying to keep a hold of her because he'd been mixed up about their parting ways. Now she knew that he really thought of those sweet moments as times when he was "controlling the beast," so to speak. Was Arnold...like her? But she was sick! She knew she was.

So did that make him sick, too?

No! Nothing could corrupt her beloved angel!

Or had _she_?

"What do I do, Phoebe? I'm confused. I've always thought that what Todd and I do...that it's just karma punishing me, and I have to take it." She bit down on her lip until she felt a trickle of blood. How could she have done this to pure, sweet Arnold? How could she ever look at herself without contempt now? "What have I done? I didn't mean to bring Arnold into this painful world." Tears slipped down her cheeks.

Phoebe pulled some tissues from her desk and wiped away the streaks left behind, and then offered Helga more tissues to blow her nose. Afterward, she took Helga's face in her hands and smiled. "Helga, do you love him?"

"What kind of dumb question is that?"

"Did you love him when he took control? Would you like him to do it again?"

Helga could feel her ears burning from embarrassment, and she darted her head from Phoebe's grasp. "What are you going on about??"

Phoebe shook her head, giggling. "Helga! What Todd does to you is wrong, yes, because he puts no love behind it. Then it's abuse. If you and Arnold decide to get a little kinky now and then, well, that's just a normal sex life." Helga stared at her in shock. "You aren't the only one who likes to engage in a little roleplaying, you know."

"OK, that's just too much information now. I don't need to know how you and Geraldo get your kicks."

"Consider it payback for learning the hard way about yours." She winked, and Helga turned a darker shade of red. "So how about it? You don't have to talk that long. Just reestablish your friendship. He can come for visits if you'd like."

So what now?

Her attention turned to the lone window in the office. She took in the deep blue of the afternoon sky and the bright summery green of the foliage. Unwillingly, her eyes focused harder on the green, and she noticed how similar it was to Arnold's beautiful irises. Was it a sign? Should she make peace with Arnold? Invite him back into her life? Should she allow herself to be hurt again? Because she knew that's what life would be like, probably forever. It couldn't be helped, of course, but she had to be realistic. As long as Arnold breathed the same air, he was hurting her somehow.

She scoffed at herself. Was it all really as simple as that? Arnold would never really hurt her; he'd never meant to, right? And what about Todd? He'd find out somehow. Sighing, she turned back to Phoebe. "I can try, I guess. What do I do when it happens?"

"When what happens?"

Fresh tears fell onto her pink blouse. "When Todd kills us...because it will happen, you know. You won't be able to keep him out of here for much longer. He'll come back to get me, like he always does. Even if I find a way to not need him, he needs me."

Phoebe clasped Helga's shaking hands in hers and looked Helga in the eyes as she said firmly, "I'll never let that happen." Then Helga felt Phoebe's small arms envelope her into a strong hug, and she found herself hugging back. Even though it felt so good, she knew the high wouldn't last long.

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The phone was mocking her, she was sure of it. Its cream plastic covering glistened under the hospital's fluorescent lights, beckoning her to use it. To apologize for giving up on them, for giving up on life so long ago. Oh, she wanted to talk to him, to hear that sweet melodious baritone in her ear, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to pick up the receiver yet. She was afraid still...afraid of what to say, and terrified of what Todd would do to Arnold if he should find out. If he finally had a face to put with the name she'd once called out during sex early in their relationship, she knew he'd find a way to get Arnold. He'd forbidden the use of that name in their house, which was partially why she'd forced herself to forget her former life in the first place.

More tears slipped down her wet face. She'd cried so many times today, and she felt like she should be dry by now, but that wasn't the case. If she didn't keep making herself stop, she probably had enough to fill up a lake, at least.

Each time she built up the courage to finally pick the damn thing up, someone else would come to make their own call, and each time, she'd move because she didn't want to them to accuse her of being rude or snoopy. She was too low on energy to pick a fight.

Sometime during the evening, the phone stopped being used, and she started migrating toward it again, checking her surroundings to make sure that no one was paying attention to her. As her fingers slid over the receiver, she started hyperventilating. She swore she could hear all sorts of different versions of herself shouting at her.

_C'mon, Helga! You can do this! How hard is it to dial a freaking number and just say, "Hello, Hair Boy"?_

_It's now or never, you know._

_No, don't!! This is Arnold! You can't just say hello to him! He's going to want to talk!!_

_He's probably married or something by now...he has to be. Phoebe just wanted you to be friends again, remember? She never said anything about you asking him out or humping his leg...just talk._

_What if he isn't married? What if he's just been...waiting, all this time?_

_What if he hasn't? What if he's married to...no, she married that weirdo cousin of his, right?_

_What if you all put a sock in it and dial the damn number?!?_

Sighing, she unfolded the note with his number on it, grabbed the receiver, and began to punch the buttons. Sweat formed in her palms as she listened to the sound of ringing over the line. "Maybe he's not home," she whispered to herself, but after nine rings, someone picked up.

Thankfully, it was not a woman. "Hello?" Oh God, that sweet baritone! "Hello?" Oh God, what the hell should she say?? Frantically, she tried to think of something. "I know someone's there. I can hear you breathing." Why was it so hard to talk? It's not like she hadn't talked to him before! "Look, I don't have all night, so why don't you--"

Finally, she found her voice again. "I...I had to call...to say I'm, uh, sorry." She smacked her forehead in frustration. "I'm sorry for dragging you into my mess. You deserve better." She choked out, "Please find someone better."

She moved to hang up, never hearing his plea of "Helga, wait!" as she slammed down the phone in tears again.


	8. The Hardest Words To Say

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update all, but my health has gotten worse.

Chapter Seven: "The Hardest Words To Say"

_What have I got to do to make you love me  
What have I got to do to make you care  
What do I do when lightning strikes me  
And I wake to find that you're not there_

_What do I do to make you want me  
What have I got to do to be heard  
What do I say when its all over  
And sorry seems to be the hardest word_

_It's sad, so sad  
It's a sad, sad situation  
And it's getting more and more absurd  
It's sad, so sad  
Why can't we talk it over  
Oh it seems to me  
That sorry seems to be the hardest word_

_What do I do to make you love me  
What have I got to do to be heard  
What do I do when lightning strikes me  
What have I got to do  
What have I got to do  
When sorry seems to be the hardest word _

From "Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word" by Elton John_  
_

Her day began with a loud clap of thunder that pierced the very core of her soul, waking her from the happiest dream she'd had since...well, she couldn't quite remember the last time and then began to wonder if she'd ever had one, knowing her memories were so hazy these days that perhaps she was kidding herself about that 'happy' part.

Limbs stretched in all directions, shaking slumber from her slowly. She wasn't in a rush to get out of bed just yet, not when the tiniest sliver of a dream remained behind closed eyes. Something that had started out as Todd's belt biting into her until she felt she was wearing a mixed bundle of emotions as a thin bloody second skin had turned into tender kisses from Arnold's lips and painfully loving licks as he tongued each scar carefully until she wanted to scream, full of hurt but also full of desire.

Peeking one eye open, she looked out the window to witness the gray clouds, feeling every bit of the gloom and doom outside. Groaning, she propped herself into as well of a sitting position as she could manage in her condition and mumbled accordingly, "Perfect."

Last night's brief phone call with his voice filled her mind, and she caught herself nearly smiling. "What's wrong with me? It's not as if that was the best conversation we've ever had, so why does it make me feel so...so...?" Words held onto the tip of her tongue, refusing to let go. "I'm as giddy as a freaking schoolgirl now, and all it took was hearing from him again. Really, this is kind of pathetic, Helga."

Giving off a slight snort, she looked down at her protruding belly and sighed. "You know, it helps to have you here, so if anyone asks me why I'm talking to myself, I won't appear so wonderfully crazy." She trailed her right hand over the sensitive area, trying to feel something – anything – at all, but she couldn't. Each time she did this, she told herself that she shouldn't get attached because, after all, Todd could take this away from her, but she couldn't help herself. As distant from any motherly feelings as she felt, she still marveled at the thought of a life growing inside of her, and yet, she was also disgusted with herself for getting pregnant and making herself more permanently attached to Todd.

Couldn't she have waited just a little longer? Then there could have at least been a chance of it being Arnold's.

Well, maybe.

The dream drifted back into her thoughts, along with older memories...memories of the hint of a grin on Todd's handsome face when he learned they were expecting, and of later that night, as he was strangely gentle with her. Even older memories proceeded in tangents: moving into their house, the better times they had in their old apartment, her adventures in learning to cook, their honeymoon, the wedding, the first time they met – each swirling in her head, forcing her to admit that Todd wasn't all bad...forcing her to feel guilty for making that call, for even thinking about dialing the number.

"This is what makes it so hard, see. If Todd was one-hundred percent 'bad guy,' then I wouldn't feel like this, but I can't help feeling sorry for him because he's just as messed up as me. We kind of complement each other, you know?" Her eyes settled on the window again, and she frowned. "It seems like rain is always falling on the days that end up becoming the most important in my life."

Rain fell the day she started preschool – the simple act of kindness in the form of an umbrella over her head and a comment on her bow, signaling the beginning of her rebirth.

Rain fell the day she almost drowned as a flash flood breached the school walls – had Arnold not rescued her and brought her back to life with a panicked cry of "No!"

Rain fell the day Arnold left for San Lorenzo to find his parents, leaving her utterly alone – something she hadn't felt since she was three.

Rain fell the day she ran away to college to escape her past, to escape him...to escape herself.

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Glancing out the window, she sighed in relief, fully satisfied with herself for taking the time to pack and load up the old faded-pink Beetle the previous night because the morning had decided to "bless" her with a full-blown storm. Streaks of lightning lit up the heavens as she took one last look around the room that had served her throughout her childhood and teenage years. The vanity had been cleaned of every last trinket, note, and other incriminating objects. The closet was now bare, too; the volumes of poetry carefully placed in a box labeled "fragile" in bold capital letters written with a permanent marker and her clothes thrown haphazardly into a garbage bag – both sat in the backseat of the car. The last idol she'd made – during the weeks in art class where they were working with clay...the project that only her teacher knew about, and she'd gotten an A on – was now in pieces, littering a metal trashcan.

Had she really meant to break it? Perhaps. Her patience with Arnold was wearing thin which was why she had planned to leave Hillwood for Bellingham early this morning. She'd even said good-bye to Phoebe and Gerald the day before just so she could avoid seeing him.

One part of her wasn't speaking with her anymore as long as she refused to have Arnold see her off.

Another part of her was yelling at her to stop being so stubborn and go to the boarding house because she knew how much she needed to see him in this final moment.

The final part of her was also silent, but only because it understood why she needed to leave without saying good-bye.

Why was she so torn now? She'd calmly explained this to herself last night before falling asleep, and everyone was in agreement. Saying good-bye to him was acknowledging the end of an era. It was accepting that she'd never see him again. It was learning to deny that special piece of her that she'd come to finally embrace – that hopelessly romantic feminine side which she had kept hidden so well...except from him.

She had to deny it now. It was Western Washington for her and the U in Seattle for him. Romance would fizzle – in fact, it already had a few months before when he had given her the famously dreaded "we need to see other people" speech. There was no longer any reason for her to open up that part of her if the person it revolved around wasn't there to feed it.

Something wet slid down her cheek, and automatically, her hand reached up to wipe it away. She'd promised herself no tears, but the overwhelming feeling of despair gripped her. All sense of control left her body as she exhaled, and when she tried to breathe again, her throat was constricted...almost as if something was caught within it.

Like her heart.

Despair turned into panic as she desperately tried to gulp down air, and just as she began to relax, a hand touched her shoulder. "I...I'm f-fine, really," she choked out, thinking it was her father coming out to check on her.

As she turned, blue eyes met green and then darted to her feet as she stood there blushing and muttering, "Shit," over and over.

"You're leaving." There it was, riddled with the sadness she was expecting.

She couldn't look up. Damn, she was so ashamed right now, but still...she just couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd never be able to get in that car and go if she did. "Yeah," she whispered hesitantly.

The grip on her shoulder tightened, and several drops of water hit the pavement. It suddenly dawned on her that the rain had let up a few minutes ago. This wasn't rain. "Why would you do that? Why would you just leave...leave without telling me?" His voice came out so tiny, and she found herself wondering if it had sounded just like this when he had first realized that his parents hadn't returned for him, back when he was a toddler and didn't know that they'd be holed up in the jungles of some small country far away for many years. Had he been this hopeless? Had he been this defeated?

Finally, she forced herself to look at him and was surprised to see desire staring back at her.

No, dammit, she'd spent so much time convincing herself that while maybe this wasn't the right thing to do, it was what she _needed_ to do. All along, she'd been bragging about how independent she was, and that was part of the truth. The other was something she'd come to realize during the latter portion of their half-assed relationship; that she was able to function only because she leaned so much on her love for him, and it was from what she was drawing her strength. As her time in high school came to a close, more and more she'd been wondering if she could survive without him by her side. She didn't know, but deep down, she knew she had to find out.

Shakily, but confidently, she answered, "It's not like I'm enjoying this, idiot. This is something I have to do, Arnold. You know that. You said it yourself – we need to see other people." OK, so that came out more bitterly than she meant.

"I'm not sure. I think I made a mistake when I said that." He took her into his arms, hugging her, and it wasn't long before the smell of Axe and Herbal Essence filled her nose. On any other day, it was enough to bring her to her knees to show her appreciation, but today...

Today, it irritated her. How dare he!

"Criminey, Arnold! Did you think you could just come here, assault my nostrils with that – OK, I admit it – enticing aroma, and I'd just crumble into your lap like some old Southern belle out of a cheesy romance novel?? 'Oh, yes, Arnold, my love! I will follow you to the ends of the world if need be if only you'll say you're mine!'" She pushed him away from her, taking extra care to keep from sending him to the ground...even if she felt he deserved it. A little bit. "Please!! Just because you know I have a soft side doesn't mean you get to abuse it, jackass!"

"Come see the softer side of – OW!" a familiar voice sang to the tune of some stupid old Sears ad, and she whirled around just in time to see her best friend elbow that somewhat obnoxious boyfriend of hers in the ribs. "What the hell, Phoebe??" Gerald grumbled while rubbing his left side.

Phoebe squinted and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Seriously, Gerald, sometimes I--"

"What are you two doing here? We said our good-byes yesterday," Helga interrupted.

Gerald pointed in Arnold's direction. "He invited us."

With God as her witness, she swore the vein over her left eyebrow had to be popping to extreme proportions as she turned back to Arnold. "What? Did you want an audience? Or are they here as part of your ingenious plan to spoil my escape?"

Clapping came from behind her, and then Gerald quipped, "Hey, she finally admits it!"

Gritting her teeth used to be enough of a warning, but these days, Gerald was too stubborn to back down, so she usually had to resort to other ways of getting her point across. Waving her fist at him, she ground out, "Shut up if you know what's good for you."

Phoebe took a step, halfway in front of Gerald. "You only say that because he's right."

"Ha! As if! And it figures that you would run to his defense because he's too chickenshit to face me on his own."

Annoyance was written all over Gerald as he pushed forward and thrust his index finger in her face. "You'd better watch what _you_ say, Blondie. Everyone here knows that you're full of it. You're all bark and no bite when it comes to us." He looked back at Phoebe. "And I can take care of myself," he muttered, and when his girlfriend began to open her mouth, he quickly added, "but thanks, all the same."

Helga sneered, knowing exactly what to say to push his buttons. "You are so whipped, it's ridiculous."

"That's it!" Gerald yelled, lunging toward her, but Phoebe and Arnold stepped in to hold him back. "Just once...just _once _I'd like to do to you what you threaten everybody with," he angrily spat at her. "You think you're so damn smart, you have everyone figured out, right?"

"Gerald!" Phoebe warned, grinding her fingers into his arm to get him to back off.

"No, dammit! For once, she's not going to get away with this shit!" He turned his attention back to Helga, who was looking to Arnold for help, but he was silent, oddly enough. "You think you've got everyone pegged because you think we're all a bunch of simpletons, and you're the only complex person around here, but really, we've all got _you _figured out, Helga."

She crossed her arms and snorted. "Is that so?"

Gerald looked straight into her eyes then, and suddenly, she felt as if she'd been stripped bare, and the truth was exposed for him to see. She began to back away from him, but unfortunately, he followed. "I know why you were trying to run off without saying good-bye," he spoke quietly, with a smirk on his face. "Over the years, Phoebe's told me bits and pieces about you and your love for Arnold." She shot Phoebe a look only someone who's just felt the sting of betrayal can make and watched as her friend cringed. "Oh, I've been playing like I don't know because she knew you'd be like you are right now. Don't blame her for actually giving a damn about you – you know, like best friends should."

She felt her back hit the cold metal of the Beetle's trunk. Not knowing what else to do...just knowing she didn't want to hear anymore, she covered her ears with her hands and weakly stammered, "S-s-stop...just...just s-s-stop."

Arnold made a move to comfort her, and as she pulled away from him, she heard him say, "Come on, Gerald. Why don't you leave her alone? None of this is worth..._this_."

"Isn't it though?" He stared at Arnold with contempt. "Man, why do you always have to defend her, even when it's pretty obvious that she doesn't want your help? Let her speak for herself." He turned back to her again, that same sly smile fixed on his face, making her nervous without really knowing why. "Why are you so desperate to leave, Helga? My best friend deserves to know."

"It's nobody's business but mine."

Gerald shook the finger he'd been pointing at her earlier. "Uh, uh, uh! Tell the truth now!"

She closed her eyes, hesitating for a moment, and then slowly opened them, gazing at the three people standing in the way of her freedom.

"Helga?" Arnold appeared too confused to be in on this, but Phoebe was trying too hard to look like her mind was elsewhere.

As furious as she wanted to be at her friend for telling some of what she thought of as her deepest secrets, she was also hurt and...just so, so tired of all the pretending. She didn't want to fight anymore or put up the walls of defense when it was all so pointless now as she'd be gone soon, and who knew if she'd ever see them again?

The bully facade began to fade and was replaced by the older, less-used side of her personality. "I give up," she said with a sigh. "Will this make you happy, Gerald?" She peered up at him and was greeted with a peculiar site – pure shock.

"No name calling?" he asked, drawling out each word.

"No name calling," she repeated.

Arnold, who had remained a mostly silent spectator throughout the whole affair, finally spoke up. "Helga, what's he talking about?"

Her head bowed with her eyes focusing on his gray and blue Airwalks. "In all honesty, Arnold, part of me isn't really sure, but then again, I do know...kind of." She took a big breath, preparing herself before she went on. "It's like this – I decided to leave because...because...dammit!" She smacked herself. Why was it so hard to tell him? They weren't even together anymore, so what did it matter?

Arnold took her hands in his, and what she had thought was simply just a little hard to say, now was damn near impossible. "Tell me," he commanded, gently.

After that, she knew she couldn't refuse, even if she wanted to. "I...I still...I can't stop thinking about you – _caring_ about you."

He drew her to him again, cradling the back of her head with his hand. "I feel the same way."

She tried to bite back the tears by chewing on her lower lip, but it was useless, and so she sobbed into his green sweatshirt. "But...y-you don't understand. I need to do this, Arnold. I don't want to do this, but I have to, you know?" She sniffed, looking over to Phoebe and Gerald. "You guys understand me, don't you?"

Phoebe shut her eyes tightly and put her head in the crook of her boyfriend's neck. Gerald glared at Helga. "No, we don't. All I know is that you're hurting my best friend and my girlfriend, and even though I've never considered you all that much of a friend to me, still...you're hurting me, too."

Pulling away from Arnold, she thrust her arms into the air, wildly waving them around. "But why?? You all know you're better off without me here! I either act like a big bitch whom no one wants to be around, or I get in the way by trying to get everyone's attention back on me...or I just get in the way," she finished in a hushed voice.

"Stop the pity party, Pataki. You've done this to yourself. People have tried to get along with you, but you don't want anyone to get along with you, do you?" Gerald sounded too much like her conscience then. "You want to keep being miserable because you can use it to justify all the terrible things you've said and done. You won't have to face the truth."

"No, that's not it," she whispered, uncertain.

A tiny titter of laughter came from Gerald's direction, and it took her several seconds to realize that it belonged to Phoebe, whose head was up. "Stop lying to yourself, Helga! Gerald's right. You keep up this whole stupid act because you don't want to acknowledge that you have feelings just like the rest of us. You think that acting so void of emotion makes you better than us, but deep down, you know it's wrong." Phoebe began to move toward her with arms stretched out. "Step out from behind those gray clouds and into the light. Forget what your parents have taught you! It's OK to feel."

That's when the defense mechanisms she'd built long ago snapped into place without her even willing them to. She couldn't stop the harsh words that now poured from her mouth. "'Forget what my parents have taught me?' All I know, all I've _ever _known comes from them. It works for them! It works for Olga! So it has to work for me, right?" She laughed bitterly. "Get real, Pheebs. This is how I've gotten by for years, and it's how I have to get by in a family as screwed up as mine. It's not as if I can change what I am." She turned toward Gerald. "I know you don't like it, but this anger is a part of me. Who knows...it's probably genetic thanks to Bob. The unwillingness to face the 'truth,' as you put it? That comes from Miriam. Olga does it, too. The only difference between me and my sister is that she also got all of the good qualities from our mother and father, so there was really nothing left for me but the bad." She looked back down at the ground, sullen. "This is me, even if no one likes me. This is why I was trying to leave, Arnold. Part of me knows that I can't really get along without you. All of my courage to face life comes from having you near me. I'm going to have to learn how to cope, somehow, and I thought it would be better if I left things like this." She moved to open up the driver's side door. Dammit, she'd been trying to avoid all of this. Things would be better if she just got the hell out of here. Now.

"How is this better??" Gerald shouted.

"Gerald, shut up!" Arnold yelled at his friend while going after her. He grabbed her wrist and whipped her around. "Wait, Helga. Ignore him. Don't leave like this, please?" he pleaded, tugging at her heart strings.

She gave him a small but real smile. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, Arnold. I realize that us being together is something that, for whatever reason, denies fate. We can't be together. I see that now, as much as it's killing me. I...I don't deserve you. You belong with someone as perfect as you are." A sad giggle bubbled up. "Heh, there's some good in me, I guess."

"But I'm not perfect!" Arnold exclaimed with a look of bewilderment on his face.

She patted his shoulder lovingly. "Yes, you are. To me, you are," she answered sincerely, giving him a peck on the cheek. Then she got in the car and closed the door. "Let the two lovebirds know that even though they 'get me,' they don't know everything."

He nodded, even if it seemed he still didn't understand, and reached a hand out to stroke her left cheek. She fought with herself to keep from snuggling into him, choosing to remain stoic and distant. Not that she really felt that way, but she didn't want him to remember their last time together with her acting like some simpering girl.

_Keeping up your reputation to the very end, huh, Helga, _she thought resentfully.

A few scattered drops hit her windshield, then the sky opened up again. Arnold grinned. "I remember the first day of preschool."

"So do I, Arnold. So do I." She put the key in the ignition and turned it while pumping the gas, grinding the engine into life. _I hate this damn car. _Facing the street as if trying to look ahead to her new life, she choked out, "I'll always love you."

As the car lurched forward, she swore she heard him say, "Me too," but she shook her head, thinking she was imagining things again...she had to be.

Right?

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Someone tapped at her shoulder to remind her that it was time for lunch, releasing her from her daydream. Reluctantly, she got up and made her way to the cafeteria – not bothering to make her bed or change out of her pajamas. What was the point? The only person she saw in this joint was Phoebe, and she wasn't scheduled to see her until 3:30. Why should she bother with something as dull and agonizing as getting cleaned up?

Lunch was the same old mundane crap, too. The food looked like something Miriam would throw together using any moldy leftovers from the fridge, and it tasted just as bad. Today's meal consisted of something that was supposed to be tuna casserole, mashed potatoes, peas, and Jello. The casserole's putrid smell hit her, and it took most of her energy to keep from vomiting the acidic contents of her stomach. A little nibble confirmed its horrible taste, so she passed onto the potatoes...which were runny and lumpy at the same time.

"Ugh," she groaned, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Who eats this junk?" Mumbles of agreement came from a few of the patients around her, but they continued shoveling food into their eager mouths like pigs at troughs. Sighing, she moved onto the Jello because the peas were shriveled to the point of being almost blackish. "At least the Jello's OK," she said to no one in particular and then took a bite. After a minute of chewing, she coughed and spit it out into her napkin. "God, it's strawberry."

The head nurse looked up. "Quiet down and eat."

Pushing her tray away, Helga responded with, "Nothing can make me eat this slop."

The woman's head went back behind her book. "Suit yourself. You can't get anything until dinner if you don't eat now."

"Like hell," she muttered to herself and then shouted loud enough for everyone to hear, "I'd rather go without. This crap is some form of torture." The nurses said nothing as she walked back to her room. She would get in a little nap, some more dreaming, and later, she could walk to the little kitchenette and grab herself some pudding or something because her outburst would already be forgotten to be noted for the next shift.

Settling under the cool sheets, she closed her eyes, waiting for dreamland to claim her.

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What was she doing back at her parents' house? Why was she in her old pink jumper?

There was knocking, and a voice sounding mysteriously like Olga's called out. "Get up, sleepyhead! It's time for school!" The knob turned, and her door opened slowly. From behind it popped Olga – not as she'd last seen her, with streaks of gray in her blond hair and fat on her hips – looking the same as she did when Helga was just a kid.

"School?" Confusion washed over her. Hadn't she already been through that hellhole?

"Yes, silly!" Olga laughed and waved off Helga's question like she was dealing with one of her underprivileged children who couldn't grasp English. "You're a fifth grader now. Aren't you just tickled pink?"

She brushed off her sister's annoying perkiness and looked into the mirror attached to the vanity. Her hair was back in pigtails, and the familiar scowl graced her face. The only thing missing was her pink bow.

And then it occurred to her that she was still an adult.

_If it looks like a dream and smells like a dream, it must be a dream._

Even after presented with nothing but weirdness, all she could think about was finding that missing part of her. "I can't go to school without my bow, Olga."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," came a younger, slightly accented voice. "I've heard that an 'oh so special someone' has a surprise for you."

God, what a way to start the new year. "Lila??" Before she could say more, the two were ushering her down the stairs and out the door. Standing on her porch was a more grown-up version of Arnold. "What are you doing here?"

He held out his hand, and in it was her pink bow. "Can't let you start the year without it."

Blushing, she turned around and let him put it on. "Thanks."

"It's my first memory of you. It wouldn't be right if you didn't have it." Just as she was getting used to his hands playing with her hair, he pulled them away. "There, all done."

She turned back around and bumped into him. After noticing how close together they were, and how red he was becoming, she shut her eyes in order to stay calm and was surprised when she felt soft lips on hers, but all too quickly, the wonderful sensation was gone. "Arnold?" When she opened her eyes, they were kids again. "What's going on?"

With no more hint of nervousness, he answered, "I've been thinking about what you said when we were on top of the FTi building. It's been on my mind all summer long." He pushed into her, making her back up until she hit the door to her house. "Do you really want to take it back?"

"I don't understand?" Really, she didn't. Usually, she felt more in control of her dreams, but this time, something else was taking over. She knew she should be frightened, but from some place deeper inside, pleasure came and filled her body like someone starting a fire which couldn't be contained.

He was towering over her with that half-lidded gaze of his. "I don't want you to take it back."

In his eyes, her own look of desire reflected back at her, completely engulfing her. She couldn't move – wouldn't dare to move. Instead, that familiar part of her took over, speaking through her. "I'll do whatever you want."

She relaxed and closed her eyes as he moved forward, whispering into her ear. "Good girl."

Something didn't feel quite right.

Going against her better judgment, she peeked one eye open and found herself back on her bed with Todd hovering over her, but she was still a little girl. Powerless.

_I want out of this crazy dream!_

A blood-curdling shriek unleashed in her mind, but nothing came out of her mouth. She could only watch mutely as he cracked his belt at her unmarred skin. "You'll love this, Helga."

Helga.

_Helga._

_helga_

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_

She awoke to the sound of her own screaming.

"Helga!"

It took a minute or two for her eyes to focus, and when they finally did, they settled on Phoebe who was reaching out to hug her. Out of habit, Helga flinched, causing her friend to stop and frown. Hurrying to make amends even though she really didn't feel like talking, she mumbled, "I'm fine. Just a nightmare."

"Care to talk about it?"

Something that sounded like a cross between a strangled giggle and a humph came from Helga, and she shook her head. "It's too weird to talk about." She paused for a minute, thinking back to the dream. "Phoebe, has anyone heard anything out of Todd?"

"Outside of him sending a letter to the board of directors with threats of a lawsuit?" She gave off a little laugh. "I'm sure his bark is worse than his bite. If he did take this to court, he could be exposed to everyone. In my experience, people like Todd would rather wait until this blows off, and then sink their claws into their victims once they're released in order to re-establish who's the boss. He just talks big to keep up appearances."

"Yeah," Helga agreed halfheartedly.

Phoebe sat next to her on the bed, staring out the window thoughtfully. "He's asking for my dismissal. He claims that I'm 'overstepping my boundaries because I know the patient personally.' What a crock."

After what seemed like an eternity of silent awkwardness but in reality was only five minutes, Helga sighed. "I'm sorry to drag you into this mess. You have no idea how sorry I am." Helga felt an arm around her shoulder, and then she was pulled up against Phoebe, overcome with warmth.

"Don't worry about it. Like I said, I've dealt with his kind before. Do you think you're the only woman coming here to escape the abuse?"

Helga looked down at her hand which was tracing circular patterns on her sheets. "I suppose not."

Phoebe gave her one last squeeze and then let go in order to stand up. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt and white overcoat, grabbed her miscellaneous papers, folders, and clipboard, and then cleared her throat. "So...did you give Arnold a call?"

"In a way."

Dark eyebrows furrowed in anticipation, and fingers rapped anxiously against the clipboard. "Did you do what I think you did?"

Helga grunted. "Yeah. Don't ask." She watched as her friend opened her mouth slightly, obviously preparing to lecture her on her failure to follow through, but just as quickly closed it. Instead, she wore a painful grimace. "What?"

Phoebe took in a big breath and proceeded to blow it out through clenched teeth. Afterwards, she gave Helga a curious looking smile as she grabbed the doorknob. "It's nothing. I hope you have a great day," she said, putting special emphasis on each word. Then with a wink of her right eye, she turned the knob, opened the door, and was gone.

Leaving behind a very confused Helga. "What was that all about?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was 6pm, with the raging storm outside showing no signs of letting up. Lightning lit up the dark sky, and the following thunder shook the building. She was staring out of the big window pane in the lounge – which was reinforced with unbreakable glass for the crazy would-be jumpers, of course. Cars were pulling into the visitors' parking lot, and people were pouring out. Especially catching her attention was a blond-haired guy in green flannel and jeans making his way to the automatic doors. She couldn't quite make out his face, but for some reason, she was reminded of the way Todd used to dress when they were dating.

Sighing, she moved back over to the uncomfortable beige loveseat and picked up an old copy of Newsweek to thumb through. If it weren't for her daily sessions with Phoebe, she'd be so...alone. Why was it that whenever she was stuck in one of these places, she'd be forced to watch as everyone else received family support as a bitter reminder to her that she had...well, _none_?

Out of desperation, her eyes flicked to the phone. Nobody was using it. She could call Mom, hint around that she needed cheering up?

Yeah, and most likely get either Bob bitching about missing his show...or worse – Olga describing her latest movie project in her annoyingly perky way.

She could make a quick call. He'd come on the line, and it would be just enough to soothe her. That would be good.

No. Absolutely not! Married women did not make phone calls to men who aren't their husbands! What was wrong with her??

As much as she was dreading it, she knew she should call home, just to let Todd know she's fine. Let him rant a little, agree with him to sugarcoat things...that would put him in a better mood, at least until she was released.

Stubbornly, she stuck her tongue out at the phone as if it were capable of feeling remorse. She didn't want to deal with Todd, dammit. Not right now.

Visitors were starting to sign in at the nurses' station. The phone would be unoccupied for an hour straight. All she would need was a minute or two. Just one lousy minute...long enough to apologize for yesterday's call. Phoebe would be happy with her progress. Then tomorrow night, she could move onto asking him how life was treating him. Baby steps.

Why did the words always get stuck in her throat? Why was it so hard to speak them aloud, but she could write them effortlessly?

She picked up the receiver and unfolded the crumbled up note, carefully laying it in her lap. Just as she was about to dial the number, a tap came to her shoulder. "There's someone here for you, Helga."

The phone slid from her hand, forgotten. "Huh?" The nurse pointed to a guy...the same one she'd been watching from the window a few minutes ago. Her eyes traveled up slowly...cautiously, and the closer she got to his head, the more she had this sinking feeling without even knowing why.

Blue eyes met familiar lovely green eyes.

Heart pounding rapidly against her chest, out of her mouth came a weak throttled cry. "A-arnold?"

Her beautiful flaxen-haired angel, just as she remembered.

Sheepishly, he waved. "Hello, Helga."


	9. It's Been A Long, Long, Long Time

(I apologize for this taking so long, but life has been crazy for me for the past year. I've also suffered from severe bouts of depression which kept me from publishing this. Yes, I've held onto it for a year; there's no excuse other than I really thought it sucks. In any case, thanks to a new goal-setting program, I have to write something every day, and it's being followed, so you'll see more from me in the future, even if it's just short stories. However, I'm still devoted to finishing this.)

_It's been a long, long, long time,  
How could I ever have lost you,  
When I loved you.  
It took a long, long, long time,  
Now I'm so happy I found you,  
How I love you.  
So many tears I was searching,  
So many tears I was wasting,  
Oh, oh now I can see you, be you,  
How can I ever misplace you.  
How I want you,  
Oh, I love you,  
You know that I need you,  
Oh, I love you._

From "Long, Long, Long" by The Beatles

This just had to be a dream. Just _had_ to be some sort of sick delusion to which her mind felt like treating her. She had really just fallen asleep on the couch while waiting to use the phone, that's all. He was not really standing in front of her, looking even more handsome with age. She wasn't really frozen in place, drool slowly pooling into the tiny dimple on her chin. Any time, she could pinch herself, and the horrible image would fade from her eyes. Any time at all.

She didn't even have time to try before he reached over and roughly pinched the area between her neck and left shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eyes while doing so. "You're not dreaming."

The wheels inside her head that had been growing rusty ever since her departure to college slowly began to spin again, wiping away dust and cobwebs with each creaky grinding turn, and after a brief moment to collect herself, it felt like that old part of her psyche had never left.

Folding her arms over her chest, she held her head high and snorted. "Geez! If you're trying to do the Vulcan neck pinch, you're going about it all wrong, Arnoldo."

He laughed and took her hand in his, making her blush before swiping it back. "It's nice to see you, too."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she mumbled, ducking her head against her shoulder to hide her embarrassment. "So to what do I owe the pleasure?" She watched as he fidgeted some, casually shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Ants in your pants?" His eyes were scanning the room for something, and suddenly, it dawned on her. "Uh, we can sit on a couch, if you'd like. More comfortable than these stupid plastic chairs, anyway."

He nodded, and she led him over to one of the huge maroon pleather hospital couches trying hard to be more sterile and intimidating than comfy and welcoming. She braced herself to ease down into her seat and nearly fell over when Arnold just plopped down next to her. An arm went around her to steady her while she glared at him. "Sorry. I keep forgetting," he offered in a small hesitant voice.

She stared at her belly, feeling agitated. "How in the hell can you forget about something like this?" she asked, using her hands to indicate the big bump under her chest.

His face turned a nice shade of rose. "I'm a guy, and I'm not pregnant."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," she mumbled, settling back against the cushion. "So let's cut out all of the formalities bullshit and get right down to it -- why are you here?"

A slight smile formed on his face. "Why did you call?"

It was her turn for her cheeks to redden. "What does it matter to you?"

He stared out the picture window, watching nothing in particular. Crossing his right leg over his left, he leaned back against the couch and sighed. "Why me, Helga? Why call me after all this time?"

She stared with him, watching nothing as she thought about an answer. What could she say that wouldn't sound overly dramatic, pathetic, or just plain stupid?

_Geez, footballhead, I can call anyone I want to!_

_Please, Arnold, take me away from all of this. Let's get married somewhere far away from here and pretend the last decade never happened._

_I don't know why I called. Phoebe told me you still care, but we're just kidding ourselves here, aren't we? You have a different life, I have a different life. We should just pretend this never happened and move on._

_Just let me kiss you, just one more time. Then I can die happily._

She shook her head and opted for partial honesty. "Phoebe told me to call. She wants us to be friends again." A quick nervous cough. "She's still nosy, isn't she?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. She hummed in agreement and was surprised when his hand slipped into hers. "What do you want?"

Without thinking, she answered, "You," as she snuggled against him. It was too easy to let herself fall into this dreamlike state where there were no consequences for being honest, and she could feel as young as she wanted to. It was a well-honed skill, having done it so many times over the years.

The hand that had been resting on her left shoulder was now gently teasing locks of her hair. "I've missed you so much," he breathed into her ear. "I'd like to be a part of your life again, if that's OK with you."

Heart racing from excitement and mind trembling with fear, she muttered, "You don't really mean that."

A tiny laugh followed by a short huff came from her right. "No, I suppose I don't." And just as she was about to confirm her thoughts, he whispered in that same sultry voice usually saved for bedroom talk and April Fools dances, "I'd rather tell you that you are going to be a part of my life again."

In a tiny girlish voice she hadn't heard since early childhood, she whispered, "I'm married. I belong to someone else."

His grip on her hand tightened, but it wasn't the unpleasantness to which she was used. "Phoebe told me what he does to you, the bruises and cuts they found on your body when you were brought in."

She hung her head in shame. Normally, she'd change the subject by arguing doctor-patient confidentiality laws, but what do you do when said doctor is a worried former friend? And…well, she supposed she just didn't have any fight left in her, after all. Even though she'd spent a good portion of her lifetime dancing around the truth when it came to her feelings, when she finally belonged to Arnold, she found she couldn't lie to him anymore.

Or perhaps she'd been bad at lying all along, but everyone had humored the poor sick girl.

"I asked for it, Arnold. I shouldn't backtalk, you know." She cleared her throat. "Besides, Todd takes care of me, even if we have…disagreements, occasionally. Every marriage has problems, you know."

His gaze had never moved from the window, but now sadness was evident in his eyes. "No, I don't know. I've never been married."

That came as a shock. "Huh? You've got to be kidding me! What woman wouldn't want you? Who's the cow who broke your heart?" she shouted, shaking her right fist for emphasis. "I'll sock her one!"

A strange smile formed on his lips. "It was you, Helga." Then he giggled lightly as her arm fell back to her side. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, Jesus," she mumbled into her trembling hands, "no. No!" There was already a huge weight on her back appropriately labeled _Guilt_, and now it had just gotten bigger. Why was she always fucking up people's lives??

Suddenly, she was pulled against him again, and he rested his head on the top of hers. "It's not your fault. It's just…me."

Bitter laughter erupted from her mouth. "Oh, joy! Now I get the 'breaking up speech' even though it's not needed!"

He snorted. "No, seriously. Don't you think I've tried to date? I mean, it's not like I'm dating total losers consciously, but that's what they turn into for me. I keep comparing everyone to you, and well…I just feel like I can't be myself with them."

"Then I was right when I told Phoebe that I've ruined you," she sighed. "You don't deserve this." She sat up and crossed her arms, resting them gently over her belly. "For some reason, I have this talent at fucking up things. I fucked up things for my parents by not being another perfect child and by always getting into trouble, so instead of taking care of themselves, they had to take care of things for me…and they still have to. I fucked up Olga's self-esteem by joining in on the family badgering instead of supporting her for doing something that she wanted and not something that was wanted for her. I fucked up my friendship with Phoebe, the only real friend I've ever had, because of my own hatred for myself. I tried fucking up her relationship with Gerald, but thank God they didn't fall for it."

"It's not like you do things on purpose, Helga."

"I'm cursed, Arnold. You know, I've never told anyone this, but did you ever wonder why my parents didn't try again for the son they wanted so much?" He shook his head. "They couldn't because of me. When Miriam had me, there was a lot of internal bleeding that they couldn't stop without…they had to perform a hysterectomy," she whispered.

"And how's that your fault?"

"I…I don't know," she huffed. "It just is."

Everything was silent for a few minutes, and then he started laughing and stopped when he noticed her glaring at him. "Sorry! You just sound like a little kid, saying that." After that, he began laughing again.

She shot up from her seat as quickly as she could. "You know what? You should just go if that's the way you feel."

"Helga--"

"No, really. I don't need this, Arnold, and…and you know what else? My parents are right about Olga. She needs to grow up and stop living out these stupid childish dreams, and so do I." She started backing away in the direction of her room. "I'm sorry I brought you into my dysfunctional life. Things would have been better for the both of us if I'd just stayed home when everyone was too busy to take me to preschool." With that said, she turned around and made a beeline for the only place where she could be alone. Then she slammed the door and leaned against it, waiting for him to follow like old times.

After nearly ten minutes went by, she sobbed quietly into her pillows and comforter.

An hour later, someone knocked at her door and then opened it. "Helga?" Helga peered out from under her covers and sniffled loudly. "Phone for you on line two." Oh, good Lord! What the hell could it be now?

She threw the covers back, stretched, and then waddled over to the nurses' station. The head nurse grimaced as she handed Helga the phone and pressed a button, and before she could say what was on her mind, Helga interrupted her. "Look, I'm not so thrilled that I have to use this phone either."

The head nurse nodded curtly. "Make it quick."

Helga harrumphed and yelled into the phone, "This had better be good! I'm not supposed to be using this phone."

"Do you think I care?" came Todd's familiar icy tone.

"Oh!" she all but squeaked. Why had he called, today of all days? Damn, his timing was impeccable! The old familiar grip of terror squeezed her heart until her chest ached, and she bit her lip in retaliation.

There was a short pause on his end of the line, and then she heard him sigh irritably. "What the hell have they been filling your head with there?"

Timidly, she retorted, "Uh, aren't you supposed to be following orders about leaving me alone?"

"You're my wife, and I can speak to you whenever I want! Got that?" Then in a quieter voice, he said, "I miss you, Helga. I need you." He moaned as if he were in pain. "Why won't you come back to me?"

She wrapped the coils of the cord around her finger, as if trying to draw some invisible strength from the fact that his voice was just coming through the phone and not there in front of her where he could persuade her to go home. "I…I can't, Todd. I need some help. We can't keep going on like this." In a hushed voice, she added, "You're killing me."

"Goddamn it, Helga, what do you think you're doing to _me_?" he whined, causing her to jump a little fearfully. "You don't know how badly it hurts me when you aren't here! Jesus, what do you want? Counseling?? I don't believe in that shit, but if that's what you want, then I'll do it!"

She sighed and pulled the cord tautly, imagining it was her neck instead of her fingers wrapped up in its deadly embrace. "You always say that, but you never end up following through."

"So I'll go this time! What the fuck do I have to do to make you come home?" They sat in mutual silence for a while; her not knowing what to say in return, and she figured he was trying to keep his cool. She knew she was close to caving in to him, especially after her time with Arnold earlier. She didn't feel all that great about herself and what she'd done to him. Todd could make her forget again, wash away the guilt. "Helga?"

"I love you," she whispered, unsure of whether she really meant it for him or Arnold. "I'll come home soon. I just need more time."

"How much more fucking time do I have to give you?" he mumbled, her brain barely registering what he'd said through the crackling noise of the bad connection.

"Not long. Where are you, Todd?" He was obviously on the Blackberry because his voice always sounded like tinny shit when he used it.

"None of your business," came the snappish retort and then a small sigh. "Look, I'll give you longer if you really need it. I'm sorry, Helga, _really_ sorry, and I want to prove it to you--"

She buried the urge to laugh. He was reciting the same old lines he always used as his way of apologizing. It was almost sad, really, as if he spent his time perfecting this stuff like some loser from a bar. "I've heard this all before," she reminded him. "You're like a broken record." Expecting his normal reply of anger, she bit her tongue and hesitated, waiting for him to unleash the inevitable string of curses.

They never came.

The odd sound of a strangled sniffle came from his end. "Whatever you say, Helga." Then the crackling line became silent again, and she realized he'd hung up on her.

This was new. It's almost like he'd been…defeated. A word that was not located anywhere within his vocabulary, as he'd said often enough.

She should have been celebrating this tiny victory. Or hell, even _relieved_ that he wasn't doing the normal "I'm needy, and you have to come back now" routine. Instead, she just stood there, confused about the entire conversation and how she should react to it. Why wasn't she happy? Or should she be happy?

Why did she feel so damn guilty?

A frustrated look from the nurse snapped her out of the self-induced catatonia, and she numbly handed back the receiver before making her way over to the other phone in the patients' living quarters. Her fingers dialed numbers purely from memory, hoping she hadn't screwed up and that Arnold was actually home.

After a few rings, a pleasant and very feminine voice answered. "Hello?"

Her insides twisted miserably. Of all the goddamn people to answer his phone! That voice certainly hadn't changed much over the years. "What the hell are _you_ doing there, Lila?"

"I'm sorry, who's this?"

"Ah, cute," Helga chuckled to herself. "Which one are you there for, comedic or sexual relief?"

Realization dawned on the other end. "Helga?" There was a bit of hushed talking between Lila and some guy; whether it was Arnie or Arnold, she couldn't tell. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to call again later."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to bite my ass," Helga replied bitterly. "Put Arnold on."

"I don't think he wants to talk right now, Helga. He's talking to Arnie, and he seemed ever so upset about his visit with you."

"I…I." Words died in her throat. God, she'd managed to fuck up both Arnold and Todd, all in one day! She should just live out her life alone, at this rate!

"Maybe you should go," Lila repeated.

Her hands trembled and tightened around the hard plasticness of the receiver. "I'm…I'm sorry, Lila. Please tell him I'm sorry."

"You should tell him, just not right now. Call back tomorrow."

Before she could get out "I can't," the line went dead. Well hell, that was par for the course tonight!

Growling in frustration at Lila, Arnold, Todd, and herself, she hung up the phone and went to bed to help ease her mind into forgetting about past mistakes. Yeah, sure, she'd call Arnold tomorrow, and she'd let him know exactly why he shouldn't get involved with her again. For his own good, not hers.


	10. Love's Not A Competition But I'm Winning

New chapter! Please enjoy!

_I won't be the one to disappoint you anymore,  
I know, I've said all this and that you've heard it all before,  
The trick is getting you to think that all this was your idea.  
And that this was everything you've ever wanted out of here,  
Love's not a competition, but I'm winning._

From "Love's Not A Competition (But I'm Winning)" by the Kaiser Chiefs

Light slipped through the dusty off-white blinds, sweeping over her eyes, and she'd woken completely by the time it was caressing the rest of her. Still not quite ready to get out of bed, she pulled the warm itchy comforter over her head and relaxed in the false darkness it created.

Yesterday's events had penetrated her dreams like an ex-lover, following her no matter where she went to escape. It was as if her mind was hell-bent on driving her crazy by showing her every possible outcome that could have resulted from every possible action she could have taken. That had to be the case because the dreams certainly hadn't made her feel any better.

She was perfectly content with staying there all day -- forever, if need be -- just so she wouldn't have to face everyone. Not Phoebe, not Arnold, not Todd, not the head nurse, not Regina the candy striper who gave them their meds, not the guy who delivered the meals…hell, not even the other patients. Because they knew her secrets. Oh yes, she knew they did when she looked them in their judging eyes.

_We're the ones who really need help; we're the truly crazy ones in this place. And who are you, sitting here claiming to be one of us? What makes you think you belong when you're just another loser who can't cope with reality? Inability to cope with the outside world does not a lunatic make. It just says you're stubborn and lazy, __**Geraldine**__._

Was she just pretending? Should she go home and face reality? Was she really being noble by pushing Arnold away? Last night, she had been so sure it was the right thing to do. He was the past, and he needed to get over her. She wasn't good for anyone, not even herself. And adding the fact that she was already in a failing marriage that she couldn't make work…well, couldn't he see that she wasn't relationship material? If she couldn't make Todd happy, how would she ever make anyone else happy?

Was she doing this because she was afraid of finding happiness? Dr. Bliss had posed the idea long ago that perhaps she kept intentionally setting herself up for failure because she feared change, and happiness was change to her. What if she became a different person because she had no reason to be miserable all of the time? What would she do if she discovered that she didn't like who she was?

What about Todd? Would they divorce like other couples? How would he go on living without her? He'd always insisted he really needed her, like air was needed to breathe. He wouldn't just let her walk away, not without some huge fight involved. Possibly something worse. And why did she feel so guilty about being away from him and about still having feelings for Arnold? Did she really love Todd, after all? Did she feel responsible for taking care of him just because she promised long ago that she'd always be there for him? Or did she feel she hadn't yet been served enough punishment for her sins?

Which one was it?

The door creaked open, and after pulling back the covers, she watched a large mass of strawberry-blonde frizz poke through; the cherry lips forming a grin when the eyes found their target. The ball of frizz and the petite body to which it was attached entered the rest of the way and waved cheerfully. "Good morning, Helga!"

Helga had discovered by accident a few days before that Gina was related to someone else with whom Helga had went to school when the bizarre woman had rather inelegantly tripped over her own two feet while presenting Helga with her Abilify and Effexor. Helga hadn't been able to squelch the wisecrack that had left her mouth -- "Geez, with moves like those, you'd think she was Eugene after a sex change!" -- and Gina had laughed it all off after asking her how she knew her cousin.

The blinds were drawn up, letting the room fill with bright light as the tiny woman chirped, "How are you this morning?"

Helga groaned loudly and let her head fall back against the inviting softness of her pillow. "What's so good about it?"

Gina clucked her tongue and shook her head. "It's a beautiful day outside! Mr. Sun is blessing everything with his rays of love!" she shouted joyously, while twirling about in the beams coming through the window. The dance ended just as quickly as it had begun, and she embraced herself.

Helga stuffed her face in her pillow in order to suppress another groan. Why the hell Gina wasn't locked up in this joint, too, was beyond her comprehension. "Yeah, it's easy to see that extreme perkiness to the point of idiocy is a staple in your family," she mumbled.

"What was that?" Gina asked cheerfully as she emptied the trash can in the bathroom.

"Nothing," Helga yawned and then stretched. She finally got up and began to make the bed out of habit. "So why are you so damn happy today, Gina? Did someone spike your coffee?"

She giggled, returning the trash can to its previous spot in the bathroom. "Oh, I don't like that stuff." Then she looked at Helga thoughtfully. "Why shouldn't I be happy? Is something bad going to happen today?"

Now it was Helga's turn to laugh. "Doesn't something bad happen every day in your family?" She walked past Gina and handed her the old wet towels.

Gina supplied her with some fresh ones. "Ah, no. That's poor Eugene. The rest of us are just a bit clumsy."

"Right," Helga scoffed. She picked up her hairbrush and yanked it through the tangles in her hair, not bothering to be gentle. A particularly nasty one made her grimace. "So what do you have for me?"

Gina brought her index finger to her lips and hummed, deep in thought. "Well, I need vitals, and then I've got your morning medicine here." She leaned into Helga's right ear and whispered, "You'd best take them today, Helga. I'm pretty sure Kathy knows you've been flushing them down the toilet."

Kathy was the much beloved head nurse who Helga gave so much trouble. "I don't care if she knows, really. It's not like they'll change anything in my life."

Gina appeared to mull that over and then shrugged. "Well, that may or may not be true. It doesn't matter much to me, but I know Kathy will tell Dr. Heyerdahl, and I also know you don't want that." She gave Helga a knowing look as she indicated for her to sit down.

Helga took a seat on the bed and watched Gina wrap the blood pressure cuff just a few inches above her elbow. "It's not like Phoebe will care," she fibbed. "She knows me like an old favorite book."

"If you say so." Gina pressed a button on the mobile machine and then pulled the thermometer from its spot on the cart. "Say, 'ah!'"

Helga reluctantly stuck out her tongue. "Aaahhh." The offending device went underneath and began its mission to track her temperature. She wasn't sure which one was worse -- the squeezing of the cuff around her arm or the constant beeping signaling that the blasted thing in her mouth was finished.

Gina turned off the thermometer and put it back in its placeholder. "Well, gee, you have a slight fever!"

Helga grunted in agreement. "Really now? That could be because I had a horrible evening and night."

The other woman frowned as she wrote something on Helga's chart. "That's not good. What happened?"

"I'm a screw up. That's all." She sighed and then chewed on her already ragged thumbnail. "What would you do if one day out of the blue you realize that you love two people, but obviously you can't have both? You've loved one for as long as you can remember, but that doesn't mean you love the other one any less."

"That's quite a predicament!" Gina hung the chart on a little hook on the cart and handed Helga a cup of water along with two small pills. Eyeing Helga, she asked, "Which one treats me like I want to be treated?"

Helga downed the water and threw the medicine in the trash. "Well, actually they both do."

"Which one treats me better?"

Helga knew what point Gina was trying to make and gave in. "The one you've known the longest." Her gaze went to the floor, avoiding contact. "That doesn't mean you deserve him though."

"Let him decide what he deserves," Gina replied and gently patted Helga's left shoulder. "Kick the other one to the curb," she snickered and then proceeded to push the cart back out into the hall. "All done here!"

"Great. Just in time for me to get a shower and miss group," Helga quipped as she made her way to the bathroom. Gina shook her head and smiled briefly before returning to her daily routine.

The water was almost too hot, but she didn't care. She rubbed her skin furiously with soap until she looked like she was suffering from sunburn and then let the suds sizzle downward to the drain.

Lila had told her to call back. Should she bother calling? Would he still want to talk to her?

_Dammit, I'm doing a half-assed job of trying to keep him away. This is for his own good, remember? Look, happy endings don't happen to everyone. Sometimes the girl doesn't get the guy._

_Or is that the other way around? _

Someone knocked at the bathroom door. "I'm a little busy right now, if you couldn't tell!"

"That's fine," came Phoebe's voice from the other side. "It's not like I haven't seen 'the goods' before."

Helga bit back a laugh and tried to act insulted. "What makes you think I want you to see them now, darling? Are you trying to keep me from being an innocent woman?"

The door opened, and she heard Phoebe huff from behind the shower curtain. "Aren't you a little too late for that, my dear?"

"Touché, Pheebs." She continued to lather her hair, sighing in relief as the shampoo somewhat cooled her aching scalp. "So what brings you here?"

"Oh, I don't know," Phoebe answered briskly. "Several things, I think. The first one is that I've been told that you aren't taking your medicine."

"And that surprises you?"

"Helga—"

She peeled back the curtain a bit so she could see her old friend. "You should remember that I never took that junk the first time it was given to me, years ago." Letting go of the greasy plastic material, she placed her head underneath the spray of water and worked the soap out of her hair. "Seriously, Phoebe, it's the same now as it was then – what good will that stuff do for me if my life stays this way?"

"As long as you're taking the necessary steps to change it, Helga, the meds are just there to help you get through it."

"Spare me!" she snapped. "Even if I split myself from Todd, I'll still be the same old Helga with the same old shitty problems. What makes you think that I'll just magically change because of some stupid little pill?"

"I never said that making changes in your life will change who you are, nor did I say that I want you to change. The pills are just there to help stabilize you." Phoebe sighed bitterly. "Whether or not you want to admit it, your mind is a mess. You have some debilitating illnesses that need care."

"Oh yeah!" she yelled angrily. "And downing some pills will make it all better!" She switched the water off, threw back the curtain, and reached for a towel. "I think I've been doing just fine all these years without that crap."

Phoebe folded her arms in front of her chest and smirked. "Yes, you've been doing a wonderful job of carving yourself up like a Thanksgiving turkey and hanging from ceiling fans. What else do you do for fun?"

Helga froze in her tracks and stared at the old scars which ran up and down her pale arms. Gritting her teeth in disgust, she spat, "I don't need medicine because there's nothing wrong with me. I'm not the one with the problems – everyone else is!"

_God, that sounds fucking ridiculous. I may as well be the poster child for crazy._

Hanging her head in shame, she whispered, "I don't want to take pills. Taking pills means admitting that I can't cope with life." She looked up at Phoebe dejectedly. "It means that Dad is right, that I'm a failure." She chewed her bottom lips frantically, tears welling up in her eyes. "I don't want to be another Miriam, Pheebs. I can't fail!"

The tiny Asian woman gathered Helga in her arms and hugged her tightly. "This won't make you a failure, Helga. Can't you see?" She placed her hand under Helga's chin and tilted her head up so she could see Helga's face. "If you don't do something to help yourself before you completely break, then you'll have failed yourself. I'm trying to keep that from happening." Phoebe smiled gently, casting a motherly appearance upon her face. "I've always loved you like a sister. I want things to be better for you."

Helga pulled herself from Phoebe's grip and blushed uneasily. It wasn't every day that people were declaring their love for her, and even when they did, she still felt silly and unsure like she was unworthy of the words. "I…I don't know what to say, Phoebe. I feel like I've been a pretty cruddy friend to you, so I don't know why you'd think of me in that way." Hiding her reddened face behind her hands, she mumbled, "You and Arnold deserve much better than me. Even Todd deserves someone better."

Her hands were grabbed into a trembling smaller pair, and two almond-shaped eyes glared at her. "Don't say that! The things that man has put you through…I don't care what kind of childhood he had!" Phoebe grasped her shoulders and shook her roughly. "You had a terrible childhood, and you aren't abusing anyone!!"

Helga cocked an eyebrow and gawked at her. "I'm not abusing anyone? What do you call the bullying I did as a kid? What do you call what I'm doing now??"

Phoebe bit her lip and looked at the floor. They both stood in awkward silence for a while, occasionally glancing at each other. Helga was the first to speak, unnerved by the too-quiet room. "So what's the second thing you're pissed off about?"

Phoebe sighed but continued staring at the yellowish bathroom tile. "Arnold's really distraught. Why did you send him away?"

"I don't know," she said softly. "Last night I had a really good reason, you know?" she laughed anxiously and toyed with a strand of hair. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Phoebe. I love Arnold – you know I do, but I…I don't know. I'm married, and well, I'm not sure if I'm ready to leave yet. I know it sounds crazy, but I can't help caring for Todd. He wasn't always like this. There were better times." She exhaled sharply. "I don't think I can be 'just friends' with Arnold if I'm still madly in love with him. It's better for him if he just stays away from me."

"Oh, bullshit! You were perfectly capable of being friends with him back in elementary and high school."

"That's different. I was able to do it then because I was expecting to be more than friends with him eventually."

Phoebe nearly screamed in frustration. "Alright! Nevermind what you want! Can you be friends with him because it's what _he_ wants? Can you do it for him?"

"I guess I can. If it's what he wants."

"Good. Please give him a call. It'll put his mind at ease."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The phone was out to destroy her; she was sure of it.

First, she had to wait a good hour after lunch before she could use it because someone was already gabbing away. Then each time she tried to dial Arnold's number, she would end up with the cafeteria. After about fifteen minutes of that, one of the nurses had figured out that there was something wrong within the system, so she had to wait for a tech to come fix it. At some point, it was in working order again, but she was busy being assimilated into group therapy. She had sprinted to the phone after group was done and was nearly beaten to it again, but she had snarled at whoever the hell was in her way, sending them running in the opposite direction.

Currently she was listening to the familiar ringing over the line, drumming her fingers nervously against the hem of her skirt.

After the sixth ring, someone picked up. "Hello?"

She let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Oh, thank God it's you, Arnold. I think I would have hung up if Lila answered again."

"Well, that's certainly nice to know."

She chuckled lightly. "Sorry. She was rather, uh, assertive the other night. I'm not used to that. She kind of scared me, actually."

"She had a reason to be. She was worried about me."

The rapid movement of fingers was no longer comforting, so she began to pick at various scabs on her legs. "I'm really sorry about that. I just…I don't know what I'm doing right now. Phoebe told me that you want to be friends, and suddenly in my mind, I'm hearing wedding bells. It's like that old Billy Joel song; I don't know why I go to extremes."

She heard a tiny sigh come from his end. "Yeah, Phoebe enlightened me. Look, Helga, if friends are all we can be, then I'll settle for that. I don't know why you'd want to stay with that guy, but I do know that I don't want to leave you alone with him again."

"Always my knight in shining armor, huh?" She smiled.

"Someone has to be."

She picked at a big scab on her right knee, one that Todd had given her a few weeks back when he'd pushed her on her knees and dragged her by her hair across the harsh fibers of the carpet in order to closely inspect how dirty it was. "I don't know what to do, Arnold. I can't leave him by himself. I don't know what he'd do." _To me or himself._

"Who cares what he'd do? If he comes after you, I'll hurt him. If he hurts himself? Well, that's one less asshole in the world."

She ripped a small piece off and shivered. Fresh blood rushed to fill the naked area she'd left behind. "You don't understand. He had a horrible childhood, too. He was orphaned by parents who didn't want him and taken in by relatives who wanted him in…other ways."

"That doesn't excuse it!"

The rugged layer of protective flesh flew easily from her index finger to the carpet in front of her, and she went back to picking at the rest with renewed vigor. "Not everyone can have the nice little family you have, Arnold. Some of us are stuck with what we're given."

"And some of us try to make the best out of what we have," he challenged. She didn't know what to say in return, so she continued attacking her knee. After a while, Arnold spoke up. "I'm sorry, Helga. I…I'll just try to make the best out of this, too. I don't want to lose you, not when I've got you back."

"You shouldn't have to make the best out of anything. That's what I was trying to do, Arnold," she explained. "You deserve a wonderful wife who can give you what you want, who can be there when you need her to be there. You shouldn't wait around on me. I don't know if I can ever be what you want. I don't know if I can even be what _I _want, at this point. I haven't worked in a long time, outside of housework. I never finished college, and that wasn't even Todd's fault. I can't handle being on my own."

"You wouldn't have to be alone, Helga," he stressed. "I'm here for you."

A sarcastic titter left her mouth as she plucked another piece of scab from her knee and flicked it away. "Do you remember when I told you that I didn't think I could live without you?" Without waiting for a reply, she went on. "Well, I found out the cold hard truth when I went away to college. I couldn't live without you...I can't…I can't live without someone to love. I was hollow on the inside; I felt so empty without you there to fill me up."

"If I had it all to do over again, we'd have stayed together, somehow."

"You know that wasn't possible. We did the right thing at the time."

"At what cost?" he shouted irritably. There was the sound of something slamming against a hard surface on his end, probably his fist. "It's not fair, Helga! You were supposed to wait for me! It's supposed to be me who comes home to you! That's supposed to be my baby!"

The leftover scab was effortlessly ripped from her knee despite her leg's protests and hurled at the wall. "Don't you think that goes through my mind every day?!" she cried in anguish. "If I could do it all over again – I think of that constantly! And you know what? I still couldn't change a damn thing even if I wanted to!"

"You wouldn't want to?" he asked in disbelief.

"That's not what I meant. I…fuck, you know what I mean," she offered impatiently and then tried to change the subject. "Will you still come to see me here? Bob and Miriam don't know I'm in here, and I doubt they'd be overly joyous about visiting. I sure as hell don't want Olga up here, and Todd's not allowed to see me right now. It gets old watching everyone else happily receive company and remember that I have none," she said miserably.

"You couldn't keep me away if you tried." They both shared a laugh. "I'll be there tonight…provided I can stay the whole time this time?" he teased.

"Don't push your luck, bucko!" she taunted in a childish sing-songy voice, similar to the same way she said it as a little girl. She rubbed at her sore knee. "Arnold?"

"Yeah?"

"You're asking a lot of me by doing this. Don't make me regret it, please?" she asked hopefully. "I'm a little too old to keep getting hurt all the time. A heart can hold only so much pain, you know?"

"I know," he said sincerely.

"I can't wait till later. You don't know how much I missed you last night. Next time I march off like that, will you come knock some sense into me?"

"Looking forward to it!" he exclaimed merrily. "Love you!"

Before she could chastise him for saying those words, the line clicked several times and hummed, so instead she chose to sigh contentedly and then giggled gleefully as she pounded her knees in excitement. Maybe life didn't always have to be so bad.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Far across the city in an old 1940s-style home with its peeling light blue paint and white trim, on white Berber carpet in the middle of an unfinished nursery sat a shaking man. After running his right hand through some rather shaggy blond hair, he balled it into a fist and proceeded to pound it against the floor in frustration and grief.

He stared up at the ceiling and raged. "Why the hell, Helga?? Why the hell?!" Photographs spilled from the box on his lap, and he ran his fingers over them. Their years in college together, happier times. Helga really went the distance to make him happy back then, and he more than willing returned the favor tenfold. He wore a soft smile as he remembered the first time they had slept together. He had been exhausted after spending the entire evening writing a paper on the commercialization of sex for his Cultural Studies class -- due the next day, of course -- and had fallen asleep only to wake up hours later to Helga in a very pink, very sheer teddy snuggled under the covers next to him. Every time he thought of it, the same dopey grin became plastered on his face.

God, how sexy she'd been in those days! Why was she letting herself go? He hadn't married a cow, for Christ's sakes! She was pregnant now, but still…she had to be eating more than the recommended amount. There was no way that was all baby fat.

Yeah, it was certainly time to start cutting out certain shit from her diet.

Didn't she realize he was doing all of this for her own good? Dammit, she used to understand. He just wanted to take care of her so she could take good care of him in return. What had happened to her? Why couldn't she see that now?

He reached into the box and felt his way to the slick metal at the bottom, letting his fingers slide around to grip the firm shaft of the Ruger. The knowledge that it had yet to be found was comforting.

He didn't want to be alone again. He couldn't be alone. He was going to make Helga understand how much he loved her or, by God, he was going to take her with him. He didn't want to die alone either.

She'd see things his way, he told himself. Helga loved him, and she just had to have a little reminder. That's all. Everything would be fine.


	11. I Don't Know Why I Go To Extremes

Author's Note: Like I said on Deviant Art, I apologize for this taking so long to get out, but I've had a ridiculous year (kids' schooling/graduations, ongoing medical problems, sharing my computer with others, and plainly being busy). I've held onto this chapter for a year now, revising it over and over again, but it still bugs me. However, instead of holding onto it any longer, I'm putting it up for others to read so we can get to the better chapters.

Disclaimer: Nowhere in the show did it ever say she's an accident, that there's a son who was stillborn, or that Miriam had lots of miscarriages, but when you consider the huge age difference between her and Olga, you start to wonder a bit. I used some of my own life as an example. I had miscarriage after miscarriage before my oldest was born, and I had a difficult time getting pregnant between my oldest's birth and my youngest's. I, myself, was born many years after my brothers' births (a cheery way of saying "accidental birth," lol). As for the son bit, I took liberties with that. I figure that Bob always wanted a son and also figured that some of his treatment towards Miriam and Helga could be because of losing one (or losing the possibility to have one, as I wrote that they did after Helga was born).

Thanks to my /co/ bros for giving me the kick in the ass I needed to get this updated. And I apologize if the formatting gets killed. Why the hell does this site have to make uploading a Word Document so damn difficult?

* * *

_Sometimes I'm tired, sometimes I'm shot,  
Sometimes I don't know how much more I've got.  
Maybe I'm headed over the hill,  
Maybe I've set myself up for the kill.  
Tell me how much do you think you can take  
Until the heart in you is starting to break?  
Sometimes it feels like it will._

_Darling, I don't know why I go to extremes;  
Too high or too low - there ain't no in-betweens.  
You can be sure when I'm gone,  
I won't be out there too long.  
Darling, I don't know why I go to extremes._

From "I Go To Extremes" by Billy Joel.

* * *

She was pins and needles while waiting for Arnold to get there for visiting hours. Every few minutes, she'd look out the big glass window that had become her favorite spot, and when she didn't see him, she'd turn away sadly and continue pacing in front of the phone.

_He's nine minutes late! Where the hell is he?_

_Jesus, Helga, relax. Anything could have happened. He'll have a good reason._

_Don't say __**anything**__! I don't need those thoughts running through my head! Oh, God! What if something happened to him?_

_Nothing happened to him, you idiot. Maybe work kept him. I mean, he has to have a job, right?_

_I hope it was a job. Or his car. Or heavy traffic. I…I don't want to think he forgot about me._

_For his sake, he'd better not forgotten, or he's getting socked by Ol' Bets in his freakish face!_

_What if there's someone else? He still hangs around Lila…._

_No! You will NOT think like that, old girl! And…well, he wouldn't. This is Arnold._

_Well, he WAS practically groping me via phone earlier._

_Yeah, there's that, too._

She sighed and peered out the window again for what had to be the hundredth time, hoping he was out there. She was already arguing with herself which was never a good thing.

A quick peek showed her that no new cars had pulled into the parking lot.

_He's not coming._

Biting her lower lip to suppress a whimper, she reluctantly sat down on one of the oversized fuchsia pleather chairs. The longer Arnold was, the more she nibbled on her fingernails - an old habit she hadn't used in a while.

_Face it, Helga. He's not coming. _

_He'll have a good excuse!_

_Oh, sure! It'll be a __**great**__ excuse! "Gee, Helga, I'm sorry I forgot all about you while Lila was sticking her tongue down my throat! __**She was just trying to dislodge a piece of food that got stuck!**__"_

_Lila is married._

_Married people cheat. Do you need a reminder?_

_Arnold…he…he's not like that…._

_Oh, good! And now we're reduced to whining! Footballface is not worth all of this! This is pathetic!_

_Don't start. You start talking like Bob, and I'll force you so far down in my mind that even my subconscious won't find you._

_I doubt it. Really, you should be used to people neglecting you. Why is this any different?_

The only answers she had were tears.

After getting her crying under control, she glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed that it was nearly 7:45. With only so many minutes of visiting time left, she decided to give up on Arnold and wander off to her room for the night to find escape in her dreams.

Just as she was standing up, a hand touched her shoulder. "Going somewhere without me?" Before she could reply, she was spun around into a warm embrace. "I'm sorry I'm late. There was an accident on Delridge Way that was blocking all lanes, and I was stuck waiting until they opened it back up."

"A likely story." She poked him in the belly, and he blushed. "Who was the hot brunette with the killer rack?"

"Say what?" He grabbed her hand and led her to a couch.

She eased down onto the seat and giggled. "Oh, please, Arnold. For as long as I've known you, you've had some sort of 'Oedipus Complex.' Before me, there was herd of girls you liked who looked like your mother."

"Before you, huh?" he chuckled. "How do you explain Lila?"

"Every guy was fascinated with her. Geez, I thought like a guy for a good portion of my life, Arnoldo. It is written somewhere within the Y chromosome that men must know if the carpet matches the drapes on redheads, I'm positive."

_I bet he knows if the carpet matches the drapes._

Ignoring the voice, she stuffed a fingernail in her mouth and began to bite the frayed ends.

"I wasn't busy with Lila," he said, as if reading her mind. She glared at him, and he rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it, Helga. I know that's what you're thinking right now. Years may have passed since the last time we talked, but I still remember the ins and outs of dealing with a person who is borderline."

She angrily crossed her arms and snorted. "_Deal _with, huh?"

Strong arms enveloped her into their warmth, and his sweet voice murmured in her ear, "Don't act like that. You know what I mean. You always did hate it when I'm late. I know that the first thought to your head was, 'He must be sleeping with Lila,' and your second thought was, 'He doesn't care about me.'"

She relaxed her body and sighed. Was she really that predictable? "I…I was just worried. I don't mean to be, but I can't help it."

"You don't have to worry; that's what I've been trying to tell you for a long time." Soft lips brushed against her neck, causing a delightful shiver to course through her body. "I'm not going anywhere."

Memories of long ago flooded her mind, ripping open old scars and pouring salt into them. "Arnold, I don't know what you've been told, but I haven't really changed a lot over the years. The only difference between now and then is that now I get what I…what I'd needed then. I can't ask you to give me what I need because it disgusted you so much then, so what's the say that's changed?"

_Who says you won't give me the "I can't" speech again?_

"I didn't understand a whole lot then. God, Helga, I was a virgin, too, you know. All I'd known about sex was 'man plus woman equals baby'. I wasn't some know-it-all smooth charmer like Gerald."

She nearly choked on her laughter. "What, you didn't learn all you need to know about sex from porn like he did?"

She felt a slight rumbling at her back and realized that he was trying to keep from laughing, too. "I didn't have an older brother who forked over the key to his stash when I turned fifteen and said, 'Have at it, bro. Just don't get it all sticky.'"

The giggles unleashed then from the both of them. "Yuck, Arnoldo! That's **way **more information than I wanted to hear!" After they calmed back down, she turned serious again. "So let's play Hypothetical Situation. If I have a particularly bad day where I can't seem to keep my trap shut, and I dog you every minute until we're nearing bedtime, what would you do?"

"It would take more than that to rifle my feathers. You know that."

"What if you went to put on your shoes and found tapioca pudding in them?"

"What _is_ it with you and pudding?"

Her face turned three shades of red. As much as she liked to play the Let's Be Naughty game, it had been years since she'd played it with Arnold, and she was suddenly shy. "I like the texture of it. It's so silky and slimy when you squeeze it through your fingers."

His legs shifted, and he mumbled nervously. "Are we still talking about pudding?"

"Maybe."

A loud cough from behind the loveseat interrupted their conversation. "Visiting hour is up."

The dopey smile on her face waned as sheer panic unfurled in her mind and gripped her aching heart. Rising to her feet, she found herself face to face with Kathy, the head nurse. "He just got here thanks to an accident out there. Can't we have another half hour?"

The older woman shook her head. "It's not my problem if visitors can't be here on time. You'll have to wait until tomorrow."

Why was she so cold and terrified? Why was her heart racing? "I can't wait until tomorrow!" she shrieked, and really, at that moment she felt that she couldn't. Her legs moved her around the room, as if subconsciously tempting to warm her back up, but God, she was so damn cold!

_It's not fair. Everyone else gets time with their families and friends, more time than I do! Fuck, I don't even see my family, and I sure as hell don't have many friends. Arnold is the only charitable person out there who's making a space in his schedule for me, and this is what I get. Why the hell is Fate determined to keep us apart? What have I done that's so wrong? Why can't I catch a lucky break? Jesus, it's so cold in here! Did they turn down the thermostat? I don't feel right. Why does it feel like I'm moving through water?_

_Why are they all staring at me like that?_

Arnold moved toward her slowly, looking at her like she was so fragile that she might break at any time. "You need to sit down. You look really pale."

_God, I'm going to throw up. My skin feels like ice. Did he say I was pale? I feel like I'm going to die. I'm going to die if he leaves. Don't leave me, Arnold! Oh God, I'm going to die, and I'll never be warm again!_

Her body swayed, and briefly, she wondered if she was dancing. Suddenly, arms were around her, and the disappointment must have really stung her about them belonging to Nurse Kathy because she hurt. Lots. "You're having a panic attack. You need to sit and calm down."

_Ow! Why does my arm hurt so much? Feels like a bee stung me._

"Don't tell me what to do." Her own voice came out so funny, so slurry. Did she have something to drink? She couldn't remember drinking.

_Drinking's not good for the baby. Todd will strangle you if you kill his child, kill it before he can._

A hiccup bubbled its way out of her mouth, and she grimaced at the nasty taste. "I need more time, please. Just a little more time. I'll die if he goes. I'm so alone." Hot angry wetness formed at the corners of her eyes, waiting to slide down her cheeks. "I don't want to be alone anymore. I've always been so alone."

_Why won't they let him stay with me? Ugh, I feel so tired._

_That wasn't a bee sting, idiot. Nurse Ratched gave you a shot of thorazine to shut you up because you were acting like a psycho - oh, wait, you __**are**__ a psycho._

_What's she saying to Arnold? And why does he look so sad? I just want to…I just want to…._

_Sleep. You just want to sleep._

"No!" she cried in desperation, and with what bit of energy she had left, she latched onto Arnold. Her hands slid along his body until they reached his face. "Please take me with you. You look so sad, like me."

His right hand came up as if to touch her, but he hesitated and then let his arm drop back down to his side. "I can't, Helga." God, he sounded so broken. "You need to get better first."

_St. Arnoldo won't fuck a married woman, you sleaze._

He placed a quick kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest. It'll be OK." Then he turned to go.

Something deep inside wailed frantically.

_He doesn't want you. No one wants you. Why do you think you keep coming back to these places? That book you read after you were diagnosed years ago…what did it say? That people with borderline personality disorder and bipolar disorder push loved ones away. No one wants to really deal with your mess. You're destined to be alone. You should feel lucky that Todd puts up with your sorry ass when no one else will._

_He's going to walk out of that door, and you'll never see him again because you're too weird. Too gross. Too much like a guy. Not ladylike, not like Lila. You know that's who he really wants. He wants to slide between those creamy welcoming thighs. He wants a __**woman**__, not someone who acts like a man._

He paused at the door, and it looked like he was going to wave but thought better of it. Instead, he continued walking out of the ward. After he was finally gone, the dreadful darkness claimed her tired body.

* * *

The sound of a heavy door creaking open is what woke her. It took a few seconds to realize that she wasn't in her house or even her hospital room. No, she was back in that same processing room she'd been thrust into when first arriving to this place, and this time, her arms and legs were tied down firmly.

_Oh no, what did I do?_

It was Nurse Kathy's smirking face that greeted her. "Up and at 'em, kiddo. Are you still feeling frisky?" She shoved a syringe in Helga's face. "I've got another dose for you."

Anxiety threatened to rear its ugly head again, but she swallowed it down. "I'm sorry for earlier. I haven't had a panic attack in a long time." The ominous needle was back into her line of sight, but this time, it was filled with fluid. "Really, I'm better now."

The older woman laughed bitterly. "That's what they all say. I'm giving you another dose, and Heyerdahl can deal with your ass when she gets here in the morning."

Fear made her struggle against the bonds, looking for a way to escape. She didn't want to sleep, dammit! She wanted to talk to someone, anyone; it didn't matter as long as she wasn't alone with her misery in this godforsaken room. "Please," she said in a small voice usually reserved for her husband, "I promise to be good now."

The woman looked startled for a minute but shook it off. "I don't care if you think Heyerdahl is your friend. We've got certain procedures that we have to follow around here, and this is one of them." Helga felt something poke her, and then numbing heat traveled up her arm. "Heyerdahl doesn't treat you any differently than she does her other patients, so stop thinking you have special privileges."

"I don't think that," she argued pointlessly.

_Is she saying that Phoebe isn't really my friend? That can't be right. I…I thought she liked me, that she'd forgiven me._

_Do you expect people to keep forgiving you the rest of their lives? People tire easily, Unibrow, and they're growing sick of the drama you bring._

_I…don't mean to…just can't help it._

_Are you going to keep saying that for the rest of your life?_

"Phoebe's my friend," she said to the ceiling, uncertain if that was really the case now. Somewhere in the room, the head nurse still loomed. "She's been my friend since preschool. I don't know what I'll do…she just **has **to like me."

"Keep telling yourself that." The door slammed shut, and her eyes followed suit.

Sunlight greeted her the next time she woke, and it dawned on her that she was back in her room. After she rubbed the crust from her eyes, she noticed she wasn't alone.

There was a shuffling of papers, and a pen tapped rhythmically against a clipboard. "Are you feeling better?"

Helga sighed heavily. "That depends on whether you're really my friend or not."

The tapping stopped suddenly. "What do you mean? Of course I'm your friend."

"That's not what I heard last night." She pulled the covers up to her neck, needing the extra security they offered. "You don't have to feel obligated to be my friend now just because we were close once. After all I used to put you through, I'd understand."

"Helga, I don't know what line of crap Kathy's been feeding you, but I forgave you long ago." Phoebe pulled off her glasses and took out a cloth to clean them. "As I mentioned before, the blame doesn't rest entirely on your shoulders. You need to stop thinking that everything is your fault."

"Isn't it though?" she asked warily. "Bob had a saying that things would have been better for the Pataki family had I not been born at all rather than be born some sort of wannabe boy." She shut her eyes to keep Phoebe from seeing any tears that threatened to fall.

"Bob's an idiot, Helga. How many years did it take before you finally convinced him to offer cell phones?"

"He only did that after his precious _Ol-ga _mentioned that she and her friends were looking to buy some," she scoffed.

Phoebe snickered. "See what I mean? Opportunistic, but still an idiot."

She sighed. "I suppose." Clearing her throat, she changed the subject. "Arnold came by, but he was late thanks to traffic."

If a light bulb could have gone off over the Asian woman's head, it would have. "Ah, the reason for the panic attack. I bet you didn't get enough time." Scribbling something down, she said, "I can make a note to allow you a little extra time if it happens again."

Kathy's taunt haunted Helga's thoughts, and she shook her head. "People already think I get special treatment around here."

Phoebe pursed her lips and grumbled, "Helga, I'd do the same for any other patient who needs it. Don't let Kathy bother you. She doesn't like me much for whatever reason, and she's pinning her problems with me on you." After a second thought, she added, "I'll make a note of that also."

"The feelings of the love I have for him are still as strong as they were when he first offered me his umbrella," she muttered to no one in particular as she sat up. "I need to talk to him or I swear I'll explode!"

Phoebe smirked and motioned for Helga to stand up. "C'mon, you can use the phone in my office while I make rounds."

* * *

"Hello?"

"I would lick every last drop from you like an ice cream cone if I were with you right now."

A yawn crackled through the line, and then Arnold laughed. "That's a fine way to greet the day."

"That's how I would greet every sunrise with you," she replied seriously. "I'm sorry to wake you, but Pheebs let me use her office phone because I was about to…I just needed to hear your voice."

"Don't worry about it," his voice came over the line softly. "I understand."

"I'm sorry for freaking out last night. I can't remember the last time I had a panic attack of massive proportions. I usually keep myself under control," she mumbled, still irritated with herself.

"Helga, I said don't worry about it." There was an awkward pause between them, with Helga chewing worriedly on her lip. "It's fine. I'm sorry it took me forever and a day to get there last night. If I'd taken another route, then it wouldn't have happened."

"Don't go blaming yourself because of me!" she scolded and then switched moods. "So you're not angry?"

"Why would I be angry?" He sounded genuinely confused.

What could she say? She was accustomed to people lecturing her about her _little problem_. Why would she expect Arnold to act any differently? "You know what? It's not important."

"Whatever you say. So, same time tonight?" There was a chuckle from his end. "I promise to grow wings and fly if I'm about to be late this time."

She stuck out her tongue at him even though he couldn't see it. It was the thought that counted. "Don't go making promises you can't keep, Arnoldo."

He laughed again. "I won't."

"So…until tonight?"

"Till tonight," he agreed.

There was a pregnant pause again, but this time, it was companionable. She twirled around in Phoebe's chair, wondering how to end the call. There was no urgent desire to hang up, but at the same time, she couldn't keep her friend's phone tied all day. "Listen, Pheebs will be coming back soon, so I'd better go. It's only a couple of hours until we can talk again, anyway."

"Yeah."

"I…you know I'm sorry about hurting you. In the past, I mean. For all of the times since preschool. I know I've said it a million times probably, but when I left for college, I ended up hurting you again. I thought I was doing you a favor by letting you go. I didn't want to turn you into someone like me." She sighed deeply. "I still feel that way. I shouldn't be seeing you, especially like this." She frowned at her ring and belly.

"Helga, there's a saying about letting things go. If you let go of something you love, and it returns, then it was meant to be."

"I know that," she replied but didn't say what else was on her mind - _I just didn't think it applied to us_. The door to the office opened, and one frazzled-looking tiny woman with tons of paperwork in her arms barged through. "I've got to go, Arnold. Phoebe's back."

"Later then. Love you."

There was a click before she could yell, "Stop saying that!" It was already too late. She huffed into the phone and then hit the off button. "Why does he do that?" she whined in frustration.

"Does what?" Phoebe asked while setting the folders and papers down on her desk. She blew a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

"It doesn't matter," Helga muttered irritably.

"Stop deflecting."

She twirled around in the chair a few times, alone with her thoughts, before she spoke up again. "I'm a married woman. We're supposed to work on being friends, not friends with benefits. Maybe…maybe one day, Todd won't need me anymore, and then I'll go. It'll be all right then, but not right now. Right now, he'd just use this against me to paint me as the slut he's always seen me as. I don't want to prove him right."

Phoebe stared at Helga thoughtfully for a moment and then nodded. "I'll have a little chat with Arnold."

"No, don't do that. I don't want him mad at me because I couldn't say it to him, myself." She shook her head and looked out the window. "I'll talk to him later."

_It's my fault anyway. I shouldn't be leading him on like this. _

_You can't help it if it feels good to hear him say he loves you. At least __**he **__means it, unlike someone else we won't mention._

_Shut up! Todd means it, too. He's just…he has a different way with love. You know that. He doesn't know how to show it properly._

_Oh sure he does! He shows you how much he loves you when he kicks you in the ribs or punches you in the face! What about the care he uses when he ties you up or handcuffs you to the bed to make sure you stay put? Isn't that love?_

_Don't patronize me. You know what I really mean. He grew up in an even worse household than mine. He can't help how he acts, just like I can't._

A hand waved in front of her face, bringing her back to reality. "Earth to Helga! I asked if you wanted to have lunch."

"Oh." She looked down sheepishly at the floor. "I guess I'll be out of your hair then."

"I meant with me, silly. Gerald packed my lunch, and it's way more than I can eat by myself. I know I'm not very curvaceous, but that doesn't stop him from trying to put some 'junk in my trunk,'" she giggled. "I'm more than willing to share it."

"Right here?"

Phoebe nodded and cleared some room on her desk. "I'll make sure to update your chart. We wouldn't want someone to flip over a supposed missed meal."

Helga watched as a huge bento box and a paper sack were removed from the tiny fridge in the corner of the office. Phoebe handed her the sack, and she peered inside. "Oh my God, pastrami on rye." Her mouth practically drooled with anticipation. "Pheebs, in another lifetime, it would be you I end up with. You're a doll."

Phoebe grinned as she slid off the cover to her bento box. "You're welcome."

They ate and reminisced about old times. Every now and then, Helga snuck some fries while Phoebe pretended she didn't notice. Helga was actually starting to feel more like a normal person and less like a prisoner, and she was visibly crestfallen when she realized it was nearly time for group therapy.

"This was fun," she admitted while taking a bite of Phoebe's caramel cheesecake.

"Agreeing."

"Can we do this every day?" Helga blurted without thinking and then cursed herself for sounding like a needy little kid at Christmas.

Phoebe smiled warmly. "I'd be delighted to do so…if you can do me a favor."

She hesitated for a couple of minutes before reluctantly asking, "What?"

"Participate in group for once?"

Helga rubbed the back of her head nervously. "Oh geez. I don't know." One look at the frown on her friend's face changed her mind quickly though. "Oh, all right. I guess I can if we can eat like this every day."

"For you, I'd search the city for only the finest pastrami."

"And maybe some sea salt and cracked pepper chips?"

"And maybe that, too."

* * *

She hated how she kept letting Phoebe talk her into these things. Her body slid down in her chair in a sulky manner as everyone took a turn talking about their families. One girl in particular had a similar childhood, sans being a bully. Instead, where there had been anger and hate in Helga, there was only painful timidness and a yearning to be like everyone else with Cheryl.

"I don't know what to do. My mother is more concerned with her new marriage, and my dad would rather be a workaholic instead of 'dealing with a girl,' as he puts it. My older brother has his own life now, doing wonderful things. He and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of stuff even though I idolized him as a kid. I've been trying to get us to have a closer relationship, but I said something that set him off, and now we don't speak." Cheryl sniffled somewhat, and the therapist handed her a tissue. She took a second to dab at her eyes and blow her nose before continuing. "I don't really have any close friends. I mean, I have people I call friends, but it's not like we hang out or anything. I just…I don't think anyone understands me. I don't want to talk to people who can't like me for me."

"Then you shouldn't be surprised that no one likes you."

Helga was surprised to hear that come from her own mouth. She thought she'd been thinking that, not saying it!

Cheryl slowly turned her head toward Helga and then looked to the ground in defeat. "I know," she whispered.

The group leader, some stupid "feel good" therapist named Rachel, lifted her finger to point at Helga. "That's not a nice thing to say to Cheryl, Helga."

"So what? What about the truth?" Sighing, she turned to Cheryl. "Look, you want to fit in so badly that we all can taste it here. Instead of fighting it, why don't you just accept it? You can't be different and expect people to like that. People are idiots, and they actively dislike what they don't understand. We spend a good portion of our lives being told that each one of us is 'special,' and we should find people who like us for ourselves." She snorted, thinking of her old teacher, Mr. Simmons. "But it's not the case."

"What do you mean?" another patient asked.

"You should try seeing the world with open eyes. We spend so much time convincing ourselves in here that it's OK to be a little abnormal, but is it? You've seen the stares. You've heard the taunts. If we were more like everyone else, we wouldn't be in here, would we? Our lives would be oh so perfect like theirs. Yeah, it's boring, but look at it this way - take a look at the unique geniuses of our world. Yes, they're 'being themselves,' but it's a very lonely life to lead. People would rather talk about your genius and uniqueness from afar to each other instead of sharing it with you. It's almost like circus freak status. You're cool and unusual, but you're also so unpredictable, people are afraid to be seen with you."

"I never thought of it that way," Cheryl said quietly.

Rachel glowered at Helga. "Helga doesn't know what she's talking about. There are plenty of people out there willing to accept you as you are."

Helga returned it with her own nasty glare. "Oh yeah? So what do you do when even your family doesn't like you, toots? If you don't even have them to fall back on, what does that say about you?"

"What about your family, Helga?" someone else replied. "We never hear you pipe up at these sessions."

"My family?" she laughed sarcastically. "I have a mother who's kidding herself about being a 'recovering alcoholic'. She may be religiously doing the 12 step program, but she's still sneaking booze into her drinks at home. She thinks no one sees her…or maybe she doesn't give a damn if someone sees her. I don't know. Either way, she's a sad case. She's a former bull riding champion and an Olympic class swimmer. She has a room full of trophies and a mind going to waste. She could do anything she puts her mind to, but she'd rather sleep all day and fail at being a wife and a mother because that's easier than admitting that she's bored with her life. I think she's been having an affair on the side for years, but I have no real proof, and really, I don't care much. If she finds some sort of happiness in her screwed up life, then more power to her. She's been through a lot thanks to my father.

"He's a jerkass. He used to fawn all over his precious Olga, but when she told him she'd rather be an actress on Broadway instead of a teacher to orphans in some remote village in Alaska, he decided that his time was better spent at his business. I'm not sure if he even remembers my name except when it suits him."

Someone gasped and said something about that "being terrible," and there was a chorus of agreement - even from the therapist.

Helga continued. "You see, I'm a mistake. Miriam and Bob had already lost one son long before I was born. Miriam had a ton of miscarriages, and when she finally got pregnant with me, there was no way I could be anything other than a boy. When they were told they were having another girl, it broke their marriage into pieces. Bob blamed Miriam for not giving him an 'heir to his empire'. He blamed me for not being born with the Y chromosome. He blamed everyone except his own lousy self. Is it any wonder my sister tried running off to New York? It doesn't matter that she's a fuck-up. She annoys the ever living hell out of me, but at least she managed to do something for herself that she really wanted to do, so that makes her OK in my book.

"I have no other family in the city. Most of my father's living relatives are in Oregon, and those that aren't dead or in Oregon live far from here. My mother's family is back in North Dakota, and I don't know them that well. So the only family I have is my husband and this baby."

Cheryl smiled gently. "At least you have someone. I've seen your husband. He's pretty cute and dotes on you."

Something inside Helga froze. They'd been paying attention to Arnold's visits? Oh yeah…probably after last night, they couldn't help but pay attention.

"How long have you been together?"

Deep down, Helga kept seeing this Cheryl girl as a version of Lila with a brown ponytail instead of red braids. Why was she being so fucking nosy? "He's not my husband," she mumbled.

There were more gasps from the group.

"He's not my husband, OK?" she screamed at their shocked faces. "He's…he's someone I used to know a long time ago. We're trying to be friends again. It's not my fault if he's so lovey-dovey."

Cheryl giggled. "If you ask me, you seemed a little lovey-dovey, yourself!"

Excited talking broke out, and Rachel tried her best to quiet everyone, but it was useless. Helga rose from her seat and angrily shook her fist in Cheryl's sweet little teenaged face. "Who asked you?"

Cheryl yanked herself back in her chair and chuckled out anxiously, "You're pregnant! It wouldn't do the baby or you good if you get yourself worked up!"

Rachel jumped up and pulled on Helga's arm while talking soothingly in her ear, but that wasn't working either. "I don't like nosy people, and I especially don't like people taunting me," Helga ground out forcefully.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Helga, really. How were we supposed to know that he isn't your husband?" Cheryl asked. "When you do come to group, you're not exactly sociable."

Blinking in confusion, she stared at the girl before returning to her seat. "What's it to you? Or any of you? It's not like we're some big happy bunch of friends singing about rainbows and unicorns. Once you all leave, we won't know each other from Adam." She bit at her thumb and chewed on the nail. If she was never going to see these people again after she got out, then what would it hurt to be truthful with them? "If you must know, my husband isn't allowed to be here. He has a problem with his temper."

A hand went to her right shoulder blade, rubbing her in a calming circular motion. "I'm sorry, Helga," Rachel replied solemnly. There was agreement from the room.

"There's no reason to be sorry. Everything's fine. He'll stop ranting soon, like he always does. Life goes on; ob-la-di, ob-la-da." Everyone was silent for a bit, watching her. Finally, she choked out, "It's great. It's all great." A tear rolled down her cheek.

"No, it's not, Helga." Rachel put her arms around her and hugged her. "No one deserves to be abused."

"It's not abuse. Why does no one get that? It's not abuse if I ask for it!" she laughed.

"You…you _ask_ for it?" Cheryl whispered in disbelief. "Why in the world would you do that?"

Helga got up from her seat and moved toward the door. Before she left, she turned to Cheryl and gave her the most shit-eating grin she could muster. "Sorry, kiddo, but you'll never be as fucked up as someone like me. Thanks for playing though! Now why don't you hurry on back to your emo little life? Stop trying to be original and face facts - you're as boringly normal as the rest of them."

With a saucy wink, she left the room.


	12. Waiting To Change

Author's note: Yay, and here you have it. Thanks to a couple of conversations I had recently, creativity started flowing through my veins again, and this hit my head while I was cleaning this morning (yes, stories strike me at the oddest time). So my thanks to Paul and John for inspiring me. :) I wish it was just a bit longer, but this is what came out, and it has to end there.

If there are any typos, let me know. Sometimes I wish I had a beta because it's hard to catch my own mistakes when I proofread.

* * *

_Over__ the __sea __and __far __away__,_

_She__'__s__ waiting__ like__ an__ iceberg_

_Waiting __to __change__,_

_But__ she__'__s__ cold __inside__;_

_She__ wants __to __be __like __the __water__._

_All __the __muscles __tighten __in __her __face__,_

_Buries __her __soul __in __one __embrace__._

_They__'__re __one __and __the __same_

_Just __like __water__._

_And__ the__ fire __fades __away__;_

_Most__ of__ every day_

_Is__ full __of__ tired__ excuses__,_

_But __it__'__s __too __hard__ to __say__._

_I __wish __it __were __simple__,_

_But __we __give __up __easily__._

_You__'__re __close __enough __to__ see __that_

_You__'__re __the__ other __side __of __the __world __to __me__._

_On __comes __the __panic __light_

_Holding __on__ with __fingers __and __feelings __alike__,_

_But __the __time __has __come_

_To__ move __along__._

_Can__ you __help __me__?_

_Can__ you __let __me __go__?_

_And __can __you __still __love __me_

_When __you __can__'__t __see __me __anymore__?"_

- From "Other Side Of The World" by K.T. Tunstall

* * *

The next couple of weeks went by quickly. They would have been totally painless if she hadn't promised to attend group sessions, but she owed Phoebe, and she wasn't about to screw that friendship up again. In any case, it's not like going to group was a horrible ordeal; she just didn't gain anything from it.

If she had to be honest with herself, her recent improvements were due to Phoebe and Arnold. Her oldest friend spent as much time with her as was possible until she had to go home, and Arnold...well, it was apparent that Pheebs had talked to him. He wasn't coming on strong publicly anymore, but he did write her letters that he'd bring to her during his visits. They were saved strictly for afterwards when she was alone.

Even if she missed their flirting, she was just as thankful that the rest of the damn ward was no longer treating her life like a stupid soap opera. No one bugged her about Arnold now.

She was really trying to get better. Actually, spending so much time around the two people who used to be the most important ones in her life was slowly bringing out the old Helga - not the hateful insecure little girl, but the softer yet strong young woman she'd been when Arnold had dated her. She'd forgotten what happiness and love felt like when there were no strings attached.

Olga had even been by one time, and she hadn't rolled her eyes at her older sister the whole visit. Instead, she'd listened patiently while Olga had whined continuously about their parents not understanding her or her desire to act. Bob had apparently thought that the couple of plays she had performed in and the awards she'd won were enough to get it out of her system and get a real job - like coming to work for him.

So Bob was still on about that, huh. Thank God he didn't bother her with his precious business. Of course, he probably thought she was way too irresponsible and just plain stupid to run his company, but she didn't care. Selling electronics was not her thing.

She'd actually begun thinking about a career again, too. Maybe after the baby was born, she could focus on writing. If Todd didn't like it - and honestly, why would he hate extra income? - well, the new improved Helga could show him where to stick his bitching.

Currently, she held Arnold's latest letter in her trembling hands as she sat outside on a bench watching others exercise and play sports from a distance. Despite her new-found attitude, she still couldn't understand the love he felt for her. How someone as handsome, as compassionate, and as kind as him could ever feel anything for hopeless, homely little her...she just couldn't grasp the concept. So many better women out there than her, and yet he doted on her like she was some forgotten goddess deserving of his worship. She couldn't help feeling like it should be the other way around and would gladly show him true adulation if he wanted.

She read over the words again and lovingly stroked the pink heart-filled stationary, wishing it were smooth skin she touched and not coarse paper. A longing sigh left her mouth as a finger tapped at her shoulder, and she turned, figuring a nurse was there to bother her about doing something productive outside.

Her husband's smiling face was what she got.

She jerked away from him, completely startled, and yelled, "What are _you_ doing here?"

He stood behind the wire fencing that kept the crazier or more suicidal patients from escaping. His usually meticulously-kept hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in a while, and his clothes were disheveled as if they'd been slept in. "I...I just needed to see you, Helga. You don't call, and I want to talk to you."

Suddenly, she felt a pang of guilt surge through her body. She turned away from him and looked around to see if anyone was being especially attentive to her situation. "We need this time apart before something really bad happens." Cheryl was making her nosy way over to them. "You'd better get out of here before a nurse catches you."

"You...you look so beautiful. I just want to touch you, Helga, please. I'm sorry about everything that happened. I've even been going to that goddamn counseling you've been asking for!" he pleaded with her. An arm reached out to grab her again, but he only caught a bit of her sleeve as she pulled away.

Cheryl coughed into her fist and looked plainly at Todd. "Are you OK, Helga?"

"It's all right," Helga sighed and rubbed her protruding belly. "He's harmless behind the fence."

"As long as he's not hurting you." Cheryl glared at him, pointing an accusing finger toward his chest. "We know what you do to her, the kind of stuff you put her through. Just because she's too afraid to stand up to you doesn't mean I'm not!"

Oddly enough, Todd didn't yell back at her. "I...I'm trying-"

"Oh, stuff it! Don't think you have me convince like everyone else that you're really just a nice guy who cares-"

OK, now he was starting to look a little pissed, so Helga cut into the conversation before things turned nasty. "Look, Cheryl, I know you mean well, but I'm fine. It's not like he can do anything right now, and we were just talking nicely before you interrupted."

"Are you sure you're fine, Helga?" It almost appeared like Cheryl was trying to look into her.

"I'm _fine_," Helga hissed through gritting teeth. "Just keep everyone else away so Todd can say what he needs to say." Cheryl nodded and went back the way she came. "Say what you need to say, and then get out of here, all right? I don't want a guilty conscience about you getting in trouble over talking to me."

"Like I tried to say, I'm getting counseling for my...issues. I don't really mean to hurt you, Helga. I love you...you know that, right?"

She looked down at the ground and kicked sullenly at the grass and dirt. "I don't know what I think anymore, about anything." She sighed again and shook her head. "What I do know is that we can't keep going on like this. I do love you, Todd, but I don't like it when you hurt me. You're either going to kill me or this baby, one day. If you care about us, you'll stop. If...if you can't stop, I can't...I can't do it anymore," she whispered sadly. "I can't be the perfect little doll that you only want to play with roughly and then cast aside without fixing where you ripped me."

"I...you know I don't want to be like this. You just get me so angry sometimes when you don't listen. I can't help what I do."

"Are you going to spend the rest of your life blaming your aunt and uncle for your actions?" she quipped. "You thought it was pathetic when I would do that back in college."

His face grew a little redder, and he gripped the fence in frustration. "What the fuck are you saying? Are you blaming me for what they did to me?"

"No, I'm not!" she shout back quickly. "I'm just saying that you told me long ago that I needed to grow up, and well, now you do, too. You're an adult, and they're gone. They shouldn't influence you anymore."

"It's not that easy!"

She cocked an eyebrow and coldly stared him down. "Isn't it though? You always used to think it's so easy to just shut off your emotions."

"This is different-"

"Because it's you and not me?"

There was an awkward pause as he struggled to keep his temper in check. He inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly, forcing the used air out between clenched teeth.

Admittedly, she was a little frightened at that moment, but mostly, she felt sorry for making him feel so badly. He hadn't deserved the abuse he'd suffered as a kid. She just wanted him to feel the same kind of miserableness that he'd put her through.

She stood to go to him and forgot about the letter that had been folded in her lap. It dropped gracelessly to the ground and got Todd's attention. "What is that?"

A restless eye flittered back and forth between the note and him. She kicked it under one of the nearby bushes and laughed nervously. "Oh, that's just something Phoebe gave me. It's nothing."

"Helga." It was that voice - _that__ voice_ - of his where all he had to do was utter her name, and she'd start sweating so profusely that he'd know she's lying. Her tongue clucked against the roof of her dry mouth, and she swallowed an anxious breath. "Give it to me."

"No," she mumbled and slid her index finger into her mouth, biting down hard on the knuckle.

"Now," he replied languidly and stuck his right hand through the diamond-shaped wires of the fence as far as he could.

A part of her that would never deny him reluctantly bent down to pick up the paper and gave it to him with shaking hands. "It...it's not what you think." He unfolded it without even pausing to look at her and glanced at what was written on the page. She knew he wouldn't need long before he'd become full of rage, so she backed away from the fence. "It's just...he's an old friend. He was the only person to ever show me love before-"

"_What _is this?" he bellowed and tried to shove his fist through the fence to grab at her but found her just out of reach. "Are you fucking around on me? After everything I've done to try to get you to see that I'm different now?"

"Oh, yeah," she scoffed rather dully, hugging herself. "You sound _so_ different. I'm not screwing around. Like I was trying to say, he was my first boyfriend. It's not my fault he still likes me." Tears formed in her eyes, and one trickled lazily down her left cheek as she whispered, "I don't think you've ever loved me. I...I don't think you know what love really is."

He stopped struggling with the fence and stared at her. "I know what the fuck loyalty is, you dumb cunt. '_Through __better__ or__ worse_,' remember?"

"Loyalty isn't the same damn thing, and you know it!" she squealed loudly. "And does that mean I'm supposed to let you just wail on me until I'm broken? What the hell, Todd! I'm not going to do that anymore! It's driving me insane!"

"Oh, I'll drive you insane, all right," he snarled and jerked the fence roughly. "I'll teach you some loyalty and respect if it's the last fucking thing I do with my life."

Their fight had finally gotten the attention of everyone on the grounds, and people were running toward them, along with a few security guards. Todd noticed and smirked at her before ripping up the letter and tossing it at his feet. All of those wonderful words...just a waste now, and she sat numbly on the bench. "Just go. Go before you get in trouble."

The last thing she heard him say before he slipped away was, "You and your precious Arnold are going to get it."

* * *

Her body rocked to and fro in a desperate attempt for comfort. First the shit with Todd, and now Arnold was nowhere in sight. Visiting hours had come and gone, and he wasn't answering his phone. She was trying not to panic since this was only the second time ever, but the day she was having...well, she had just finished assuring herself that nothing was wrong.

Todd's words flashed wickedly through her thoughts: _You __and__ your __precious__ Arnold __are __going __to__ get __it_.

_Surely__, __he __didn__'__t __mean __that__. __It __was __just __in__ the__ heat __of __the __moment__. __He __was __pissed__._

_Yeah__, __buddy__, __was __he __pissed__! __Good __going__, __you __numskull__!_

_I__ didn__'__t __mean __to__...__I__'__m__ just __tired __of __it __all__. __Things __were __going __so __well__, __and __once __again__, __shit __happens__. __I__'__m __so __sick __of __it__! __I __don__'__t __know__ why __he __has __to __treat __me__ this __way__. __Hell__, __I__ don__'__t __know __why __life __has __to __treat __me __this __way__!_

_You__'__re __as__ whiny __as __Toddy __boy__. __You__'__d__ better __hope __that __Arnold __is __in __the __hospital __or__ worse __because__ otherwise__, __he__ just __ditched __you__, __too__. __Man__, __good __job__. __You__'__re __a__ hopeless __nutcase__! __You__ can__'__t __even __kill __yourself __properly__ or __I__'__d __suggest__ you __do __that__, __pronto__!_

_I__'__m__ so __sick __of __it __all__, __everything__._

'_I__'__m__ so __sick __of __it __all __blah __blah __blah__!' __Listen __to __yourself__, __you __wuss__! __What__ happened__ to __us__? __You__'__re __supposed __to __be __the __one __ordering __people__ around and__ pounding__ the __crap __out __of __those __who__ hurt __you__, __not__ the __other __way __around__!_

_Fine__, __I__'__ll __start__ with __you__! __I__'__m __tired __of __you __berating __me__! __It__'__s __because __of __YOU __that __my __life __was __a__ living __hell __in __school__! __If __you__'__d __just __let __me __be __myself__, __I__'__d __have __had__ lots __of __friends__! __I__ would __have __been __normal__! __Arnold __would __have__ liked __me__ and__ wouldn__'__t __have__ had __to__ feel __bad__ about __doing __it__! __My __family __would __have __liked __me __for __me__! __Fuck __you__, __just __GO__ TO__ HELL__!_

There was a welcoming silence as she opened the drawer to her nightstand and snagged every letter he'd written so far. They shivered with anticipation in her merciless grasp, as if they knew what she was going to do before she did.

The first one tore easily and slid from her fingers into the trash. The feeling was akin to the same blessed release she'd gain when she would cut herself in high school. She ripped the rest to shreds and watched painfully as they filled the can.

"He can't love you anymore," she told herself with shaky confidence. "No one can love you anymore. Fuck them all, fuck 'em. You don't need anyone." Her foot knocked the receptacle over. "All you need is you."

A tear fell to the floor. "You're better off by yourself, anyway."


	13. Searching For Something

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long, but at least it wasn't as long as another year. XD

Since I've been writing Addiction with Brokenrose24, I've been kicking my writer's block in the ass. Well, it's not actually writer's block, but it's like a block on me that kept me from wanting to write. Plus, this chapter isn't porn without plot; it has to happen for another purpose, but because it involves dark Arnold, I was afraid to finish it. However, I remembered what Mia and I said to each other about writing dark Arnold and going all out.

I apologize if you don't like dark Arnold, but as I said, there's reasons for everything in this story, and I'll also kindly point you to the April Fool's Day episode where we already saw a hint of him anyway, lol.

Thanks for reading, and the next chapter will be out soon!

* * *

_All my life I've been searching for something._

_Something never comes, never leads to nothing._

_Nothing satisfies, but I'm getting close,_

_Closer to the prize at the end of the rope._

_All night long I dream of the day._

_When it comes around, and it's taking away._

_Leaves me with the feeling that I fear the most,_

_Feel it come to life when I see your ghost._

- From "All My Life" by Foo Fighters

* * *

She lay gagged and shackled before him in the humid candlelit room, sweat dripping from her bowed head onto the cracked concrete floor of his grandparents' basement. Her wrists and ankles ached in protest while the leather straps merely gripped tighter as she flexed her muscles. A muffled whine slid past the rubber ball jammed into her mouth as a hand yanked roughly at her hair.

She still almost expected it to be Todd and nearly lost her breath when Arnold's face dipped down to meet hers with a lazy grin. "Everything's all nice and tight, sweetheart?"

Part of her wanted to demand that he release her. After all, this position couldn't be good on her knees or the baby - and magically, her huge belly was suddenly reminding her of its presence.

However, the darker and deeper part of her that constantly pleaded with her for permission to let Todd's misplaced rage consume her was now screaming at her...that this is what she'd been waiting for all of her life. Who better to punish her than the saint, himself? The man she'd wronged so many damn times.

He stroked the small of her back, and a bead of sweat laced with other bodily fluids trailed down the inside of her left thigh. She bit back a moan, and he smacked her in the same spot he'd just gently touched. "Don't hold back. I want to know the effect I'm having on you." He softly fingered her pubic hairs, and she groaned loudly around the gag.

She wanted to beg for him to fuck her raw, but she could only produce what sounded like a half-hearted grumble.

Laughter filled the air. "Is my poor little Unibrow horny?" He pinched the right side strap between his thumb and index finger, muttering thoughtfully, "It's a shame to keep such a pretty mouth hidden. I guess this will have to come off." He peered down at her and added, "You'd better behave."

She had so many questions to ask - the most important being how she had gotten there, and secondly, why the fuck was he calling her 'Unibrow' - but she wasn't sure where to start, so she nodded.

His fingers diligently worked the clasp of the gag free, and he brought them around to touch her lips. "You're so beautiful, Helga. I can just picture myself fucking that mouth until those lips are bright red and glistening with your spit and my hot-"

"Arnold, how did I get here?" she interjected quickly. She knew she could be crossing a line, but some nagging feeling in the back of her head kept urging her that none of this was real. Her Arnold had been way too shy for that kind of dirty talk.

Besides...didn't he bail on visitation last night? Why wasn't she furious with him?

Oh...right. He was wearing leather pants that left nothing to the imagination.

She shook her head and tried again. "I shouldn't be here. This isn't right."

He cocked a curious eyebrow at her. "What isn't right? I thought you wanted this. You like it when I take control." He fondled her left cheek.

"I do," she whispered as she nuzzled him lovingly, "but this isn't real."

"How do you know it isn't real?" he retaliated. His right hand grasped a candle and twirled it. Wax flew from his fingertips, a tiny drop scalding her neck.

_Maybe I was wrong...that hurt!_

"What's to say I didn't work out a deal with Phoebe to sneak you to my place for the night?" Smiling green eyes met blue. "You've wanted this for so many years, Helga. To be my little love slave and please me as only you can. What's to say that I haven't been thinking about the exact same thing since we parted ways for college?"

She sighed slowly and shifted her weight off her bladder. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear that, but I'll have to wait longer. My real Arnold would never be...uh, this aggressive...no matter how bold he is."

He stepped behind her and grasped her ass with his hands and rubbed something oh so damn hard yet soft against her cheeks. "How do you know this isn't real? I bet _this_ feels real." She couldn't help the loud moan that slipped out, and before she knew it, she was fighting with her bonds to push back into him. He laughed. "Feels good, too, doesn't it?" He petted her head. "Why don't you just relax? Even if it's only a dream, as you say, what would it hurt?"

She thought about his words seriously for a moment. What could it hurt? After all, she'd had dreams like this before, so what was one more?

_I want it to really be him. I want him to be here so badly, it hurts to breathe. I don't want the endless dreams anymore. I need the real thing._

"My heart," she answered finally. "It would hurt my heart for this to be another dream. I don't want to wake up. I'm tired of waking up to find you no longer there next to me."

He cupped her chin gently and looked down at her with something akin to regret and sadness in his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you like that, Helga. I love you too much for that. If you want to stop, I'll take you back to the hospital. We'll forget this ever happened. I'll let you get on with your life."

Something clicked in her head. "You...you mean you really are here? This isn't a dream?" Tears fell onto her cheeks. "I thought you...I mean, you never came to visit, so I thought you didn't need me anymore-"

He gripped her hands roughly and gave her such a stare that she felt she had been penetrated already. "I need you more than you'll ever understand...so badly, Helga. So badly. Can I...can I...?" The words died on his lips, and he bit at his fist with the most pained expression she'd ever seen.

Her heart was near bursting point. Her love god had stolen her away for this little rendezvous because he needed her! Oh fraptious day, as Lewis Carroll had once said! She'd waited too long to hear those words!

She looked up at him with determination and then lowered her eyes to the ground demurely. "You've always had me. You've never needed to ask, my beloved."

She peeked up at him, expecting him to be smiling, but instead...instead he looked like he was about to cry.

_Another drop in the hat labeled This Is Really Happening. That reaction is so Arnold._

He stroked her left cheek and let out a ragged breath, as if he had been holding it forever. "You...you don't know how much that means to me." He bent down and kissed her on the lips. She was just starting to delight in the taste of Eau de Arnold when he pulled back and whispered, "Please...say it."

She paused, slightly taken aback. What the hell did he want her to say? If she could have scratched her head in thought, she would. She looked at the ground and then back at him, leaving him just as momentarily clueless as her. When he opened his mouth to say something, it suddenly dawned on her what he wanted. The same words Todd had wanted after the first time.

"You own me. I love you."

But something about saying those words ached her heart so and made her feel guilty. How much did those six little words mean if she had once enthusiastically shouted them to Todd, and she was now uttering them to Arnold?

It felt right though. This felt right. As much as she told herself it felt right with Todd - and how she did love him - it wasn't like this. This was like coming home again. Like feeling safe within her own skin again.

Her golden-haired god smiled down at her lovingly. "I love you, too, Helga. I have never loved anyone else because there's no one else like you." He stopped, sighed, and then looked at her again with a twinkling in his eyes - or maybe that was just the candlelight. "You complete me in a way I can't begin to describe. Something my grandma had once explained to me caught me by surprise when we danced the tango back in elementary school. You and I are yin and yang."

She nodded halfheartedly only because she wished he would do something. Sitting there in that position was making everything grow tired. She wanted to get to what she'd always dreamed of instead of yammering, dammit! "Yeah, yeah...we're black and white, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, you're good, and I'm bad-"

Swiftly, he grabbed her arms, cutting off her train of thought. "Oh, you have it all wrong, my lovely little romantic vixen." He kissed her again and then ran his tongue down her neck in a trail that led to her left breast to tease her nipple. "I'm the bad one." He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked so hard, she felt like she might pass out from pleasure.

"Ar-arnold, I..I'm t-the one that needs p-p-punished!" she cried out as he caressed her with his teeth.

He sneered up at her. "Oh, you're getting punished, all right. Punished for years of wearing short skirts and tight jeans. Years of being such a tease. You say you hated it, but I bet you loved the attention of every guy in our school. Their eyes roaming all over your body, checking out your cute firm ass and your supple breasts bouncing behind your thin shirts because you wouldn't wear a bra-"

"My parents didn't care enough to replace them!"

"Maybe you just didn't care enough to make a case for them to need replacement." He twisted and rubbed her nipples ever so softly. "Maybe you wanted everyone to take a peek and see what you had. Don't deny that you got off on the guys sliding their grimy hands up your belly and copping a feel!"

_OK, never in my dreams has he acted like this or said these things. I can't believe this is actually happening._

"I didn't want them to do it, asshole. It's not like I said, 'Here, have at me, fellas!'"

He squeezed her nipples even harder, and it was sweet torture. "You did want them to do it because you were such a horny girl and couldn't wait for me."

She bit her lip and looked down shyly. How did he know the worst things about her? "I...I wanted it to be you doing those things to me."

"Tell me how much you got yourself off just thinking about it being me."

"I...I...I don't know!"

He placed his hand on her ass and mumbled with warning, "Helga..."

"I...maybe...it had to have been...all I can remember was like eleven specific times." She winced in anticipation of what he was going to do to her.

However, she was surprised.

He slid in behind her, and his fingers dove into her most private place and tickled her bud. "So it was eleven times of this?" And then he proceeded to stroke her.

She groaned loudly. "This isn't punishment, Football-head! This is torture!" She felt the build-up inside her and hissed. "Aren't you supposed to be spanking me or something?"

He grinned. "That wouldn't be making you feel good though, and I said I want to make you feel good."

The stroking sped up, and there were intermittent tugs at her, sending her into a wonderful frenzy. She shook her head from side to side, but he stopped her by clasping her hair in his hands. "If you keep doing that-"

"And if I keep doing it?" He pulled her hair and nibbled her left ear.

Pouting, she whined, "I'm...I'm...going to-"

"Going to what?" He sucked her earlobe and pinched her bud hard.

"I can't take it anymore!" she wailed and tried to reach for him, but she didn't need to do so. A zipper was undone behind her, and warm hands clutched her hips. She trembled with excitement, sweat covering her skin with a slimy sheen of desire.

"I know how long you've needed this," he whispered.

With that, they were joined as one finally, and the moment was so strong, so emotional, _so much_ that she spilled herself over him and passed out, but feeling whole for the first time in her life.


End file.
